


Ex Nihilo, Rebellionis

by AlSmash



Category: Code Geass, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2018-10-26 02:04:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10777158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlSmash/pseuds/AlSmash
Summary: He had put up the mask with hope that he would never have to descend into that madness again. However for Lelouch vi Britannia, the galaxy did not agree, robbing him of the one person who had made him wish to be human and forcing him to serve a cruel master. But as Emperor Palpatine is about to find out, there is only so much abuse he can take before Zero will rise once again.





	1. The Hound

There was once a time when he had looked up into the stars with wonder, marvelled at how beautiful they were in the night sky, and mused over what each represented. He hadn't been one to delude himself into believing he would be able to explore it in his life, but it had always been a romantic notion. Still, a part of him had wondered his place amongst the heavens when he had been younger.

Now, as he stared out the transparisteel viewport into the void, he found silently cursing their very existence as he stood alone upon the walkway before the window. Around him, the quiet din of men and women working their stations added an air to his silent self-loathing, only reminding him of how far he now was away from a home that he had no idea how to find again.

All that remained was a duty to protect _her_ home without any hope of being able to return to it. Not that he wished to return, even if he could: there wasn't anything that remained there that wasn't painful. No - he would do what he had promised her, even though she was no longer there to bring light to a life that had been always been at home in darkness.

And now, standing with only a scant few meters of material as strong as steel and as transparent as glass to see through, he almost could feel a sense of kinship with the void.

It was these thoughts that dominated his mind as a second figure slowly approached him, dressed in a uniform as black as space, auburn hair covered in a black cap with a white sigil that shared a kinship with a gear surrounded by a circle. Piercing jade eyes met amethyst reflected off the viewport, exchanging thoughts and feelings that far exceeded the capacity of words in scant moments. They were two sets of eyes that shared far more than anyone their age should ever be forced to endure, and did so thanklessly.

A nearly imperceptible nod was all that was needed to be shared between the two, as he was joined side-by-side by the man who was the closest thing to a brother—of any kind—that he'd ever had. They shared a kinship that had run the gamut of what two men could share (well, almost), from the closest of friends, to the depths of vendetta - and yet here, now, they stood in the face of something far worse.

"The _Compeller_ is in position," came the softly-spoken words from the brunette; the other figure, his hair as dark as the feathers of a raven, merely nodded, his eyes shifting to a part of the viewport that he knew, several light years away, was his first command, dangling as bait for the trap he was about to spring, "she has already begun transmitting upon all emergency bands."

"That should draw the Rebels in," the ravenette mused, his body posture still without change, yet his eyes slid to meet green directly, "you want to be out there, don't you Suzaku?"

"Would I be lying if I said I didn't?"

This drew a soft chuckle and the shake of the head from the ravenette, his black locks brushing against the pristine white uniform he wore denoting his rank as one of the elite in the Empire.

"You'll get your chance soon enough," Lelouch vi Britannia murmured, his eyes coming back to rest upon the viewport. While only Suzaku could recognize it, he was tense in the face of expectation.

What would happen in the next few hours would be the culmination of several weeks of planning and decide the fate of the Airam Sector. In between the rebels and the pirates who refused to bend knee to the Empire, it was a sector that had been slated to be absorbed by the Empire for years now. Originally, the campaign had been planned to be executed by Admiral Wooyou Senn and Task Force Vengeance, but it had unfortunately transpired at the time he had just finished up sending a very pointed message to the Hutts about their business practices, so the Emperor had decided to keep him busy by having him do the dirty work.

Senn had not been pleased, having wanted to increase his prestige by conquering the Airam Sector himself. But there was not much he honestly could do in the face of the successful record that he had accrued over the years in the Outer Rim, having put down several rebel and pirate operations with minimal losses.

Then again, Senn was a traditionalist with no imagination, who believe solely in decisive fleet battles in which the glory of the Empire could be highlighted. The man did not have the mind for fighting an enemy that did not subscribe to his thirst for a decisive battle.

And that was likely why Palpatine had sent him, well, at least part of it. The other part was because Palpatine always liked to remind him how he _owned_ him.

_Nine years,_ Lelouch mused silently to himself, the only sign of his thoughts were the clenching of his hands behind his back as he remembered what today was, _how much longer can I keep it up?_

"You better get ready, Suzaku," he stated as he discarded those dark thoughts that were the sort that he drowned in alcohol, "it won't be long until they take the bait."

For a moment, he wondered if his friend had heard him, or if he was lost in his own memories at the anniversary of _that event_ was today. Just before he was about to say something more, Suzaku spoke again, his voice a soft whisper that only Lelouch could hear:

"For Home."

Lelouch simply nodded in response, and Suzaku spun and strode away, Lelouch watching him in the reflection of the glass as his friend, confidante, and blood-brother strode past the posted stormtroopers and through the doors, on his way to his station. As the doors closed behind him, Lelouch's eyes flicked back forward, only this time watching as several other arrowhead shapes moved around him, along with several other smaller support ships. But they were far from his mind, instead the words that had become a mantra for the both of them rang in his head.

"For _**Her**_ ," he whispered, red hair like the setting sun; the bluest of eyes that could rival the oceans emoting so much through so little; a laugh and a smile that came easily, yet meant more than what could be put into words, caused his eyes to close as he sought to block the vision of sorrow that clenched at his heart.

Because for Grand Admiral Lelouch Lamperouge of the Galactic Empire, that vision was a promise of what could no longer ever be.

* * *

  **ENR**

* * *

 

Admiral Laeth Kinnex could not help but feel a hint of trepidation as he looked out the viewpoint to see the spiralling blue tunnel that was hyperspace as the Mon Calamari Cruiser _Liberty_ hurtled towards its destination.

The trepidation was warranted though, as his command, which had firmly secured nearly the entirety of the Airam, was now just a shadow of its former self. What had been one of the larger fleets of the Rebel Alliance, was now down to a handful of capital and supports ships desperately scraping to turn the tide against a foe that inexorably squeezing the screws tighter with each passing day.

A month ago, The Emperor's Bloodhound had arrived, and everything had changed almost overnight.

What had been awkward, clumsy attempts by the Empire to quell his forces, suddenly turned into swift, decisive, and remorseless strikes that hit hard, and quickly faded. There was no attempt to take territory, Imperial ships merely appeared, achieved whatever objectives they had been given (usually with the destruction of Alliance or Airam assets with little Imperial losses), and disappeared into the void like wraiths.

As a result, the Airam Sector, which had been a sure Alliance redoubt to expand its forces, was now becoming increasingly difficult to hold as they found themselves with fewer ships to hold the territory.

Even the reinforcements he had received had not stemmed the tide, as the influx of new B-Wing fighters and additional Mon Cal cruisers had only seen a switch in tactics, as the Imperials then started attacking stations, depots, and logistics centers, depriving his forces of the ability to maintain themselves, before coming back to picking off his forces at will.

No, it had to end, and he had been convinced that sooner or later, Admiral Lamperouge would overextend himself, as the frenetic pace of his offensive would require a slowdown, or his ships would break down.

That had resulted in the news that the _Compeller_ , Admiral Lamperouge's own flagship, had suffered a hyperdrive failure and was currently stranded requesting reinforcements. If the Admiral didn't routinely operate in his ship without his support, he would have assumed it was a trap, but the Immobilizer-418 Cruisers were notoriously high-maintenance, and the Admiral's ship had been seen at most of the engagements, so it was more than likely that it had suffered a failure.

And even if it wasn't, the knowledge that they could decipitate the local Imperial command and allow them some breathing room in order to reestablish their foothold was something that could not be dismissed. As a result, even with the possibility of it being a trap, it was a risk worth taking.

"Coming out of hyperspace, Admiral," Commander Birge stated, as the anticipation drew higher. They both knew this was a desperate gamble to turn the tide. There was no doubt in either of their minds that the Admiral would not go down without a fight, especially with the variety of tricks he had shown over the years that seemed to specialize in pulling victory from the jaws of defeat.

It was why he had brought the bulk of the remains of the fleet, with his _Liberty,_ he also had a sister ship in the _Crucible_ , along with the last two of his MC40s and a host of smaller ships provided by the Airam Clans. It was all or nothing here, and he intended to win it.

Reverting back to hyperspace, he cast a gimlet eye at the Interdictor that hung in the distance, even as several ships moved into combat position, fighters deploying to provide a combat screen. Even from here, he could see the ship as it drifted listlessly, obviously the ship having suffered more than a hyperdrive failure if it was to be believed.

The question then became, just what to do. It would be a boon for the Alliance to capture the Admiral, both for the information he carried, but also the propaganda and morale value. Far more than simply killing the man.

"Commander Birge," he decided, turning in his command chair to the grey-skinned Mon Cal, "ready a boarding party, I want the Admiral captured. Contact High-"

"Admiral, the _Compeller_ is powering up," one of the technicians shouted, and he found himself turning in the chair to watch as, the Interdictor, indeed, began to get underway. Every thought came screeching to a halt as every fear that had been burgeoning in his gut was brought to bear as the bridge became a cacophony of reports.

" _Compeller_ 's Gravity Wells are coming online, I'm detecting mass shadows bracketing the fleet."

"Admiral, I have a _Dominator_ coming out of hyperspace to our aft, it's already powering up its Gravity Wells."

_It is a trap,_ he thought despairingly as several more ships came out of hyperspace, lead by a ship that he did not recognize that interposed itself between his fleet and the Interdictor Cruiser. While it shared the familiar arrowhead design shared by many of the Imperial ships, it did not have the unique bridge tower that had dominated. In fact, it shared more in common with the _Vindicator-class_ Heavy Cruisers, only the tower was recessed into the very hull itself and the ship was as nearly as long as an _Imperial_ Star Destroyer.

But that didn't matter as TIEs began launching, he recognized, because he knew he had not only been baited into an elaborate trap, but the ship in front of him could only be the new flagship for Admiral Lamperouge.

* * *

  **ENR**

* * *

 

There were few things that Suzaku enjoyed anymore, one of those was the feeling of flight. It had been something that he had gained years ago as when the Lancelot had gained a Float Unit, and now here in his TIE, he could feel the same sense of enjoyment, even if it was marred by the fact that it was both not his Lancelot, and it signified his servitude to a man who was beyond monstrous.

But those thoughts were for later reflection, as he was free to fly now, even if it was in the pursuit of destruction. In this case, his target was the enemy flagship that his squadron had been tasked to destroy.

"Alpha Squadron, form up," he commed his fellow Bomber pilots, eyes discerning the massive shape of the Liberty-type Mon Calamari Cruiser in the distance, "Eta Squadron, you're our escort in."

"Roger that Commander, though I doubt you will need it," came the jesting rebuke from the TIE Interceptor commander who would be his escort, "unless you're leaving some for us."

A small glimmer of a smirk was the only sign of his amusement at the jest, as he glanced at his scope, noticing the storm of dots that filled it up. It would be one of the uglier fights they were about to embark, but it seemed like every battle nowadays was like that.

Then again, Lelouch always seemed to have the upper hand no matter the fight. Always planning his engagements to his advantage, but also, ensuring that the men and women under his command had the best chance to survive. This ranged from the best equipment available, to equipping all of the TIEs under his command with deflector shields.

He had even supplied Suzaku with one of the exceedingly rare TIE Interdictors after he had cut a swathe through rebels and pirates with a TIE Bomber over the years. While people laughed at the idea of an ace pilot in a TIE Bomber, Suzaku had found a certain challenge in the ungainly and ugly thing, and after while, he was able to make it dance in such a way that it left even some of the best Imperial pilots and strategists in shock. It was no Lancelot, but the amount of effect it could have on the battlefield if wielded right made him feel right at home. That and the shock of having a TIE Bomber making a mockery of TIE Interceptor and A-Wing jocks brought a certain amount of pleasure to a sadistic streak that he hadn't known he had.

"I'll try and leave you some," he finally responded, as he selected an A-Wing that was now only fifteen kilometers in the distance, flicking his weapons selector over to his concussion missiles, before unlinking it to single fire. "Alpha Two, you get the pigs to the trough, I'll give our Interceptor jocks a show."

"Roger that, One," came a chuckle, as Suzaku watched his reticle turn to yellow on the A-Wing at six kilometers, the tweaks the technicians made to his sensors providing him better lock-on range than his counterparts, and his smirk turned feral as the reticle turned red as the missile had achieved a firing solution. After only a few seconds, the A-Wing veered away, making the mistake of giving into his nerves, and he rewarded him with a concussion missile that darted out his ordnance bay and hunted for his prey. No longer paying attention, he sought his next victim, and repeated the same tactic with another one.

But then his own warning system detected a missile lock, and his expression didn't change, even as he refocused his shields forward before the tone of a launch was detected, without a thought, he simply fired his lasers, causing the missile to explode still a kilometer in the distance, before firing his lasers again, watching as an A-Wing took a laser straight through the cockpit, before he put his fighter up on its wing and veered upwards, rolling the fighter and bringing it back around, as fighters merged into a gigantic furball. Immediately, he pounced upon an X-Wing that had swung behind Alpha Six, though that didn't last long as he dumb-fired a missile that speared through the fuselage right where the R2 unit was located.

This had become his life, for better or worse, and he would be lying to himself if he didn't enjoy it

* * *

  **ENR**

* * *

 

"Target forward batteries on the _Dreadnought_ ," Lelouch commanded, watching the battle from his vantage point as a _Nebulon-B2_ Frigate was snapped in half by a turbolaser salvo by one of the two Imperial Star Destroyers he had on loan from Admiral Senn, "Order the _Ascendance_ to activate its third and fourth Gravity Wells as planned, I think it's time for Admiral Sloane to drop the curtain."

Immediately the order was sent as Lelouch continued to watch, his Star Destroyer's turbolaser batteries battering the Airam heavy cruiser before they collapsed, emerald beams digging deeply into the heavy cruiser before coring it, armor melting in rivulets even as space fought to rob them of their heat.

His attention was then drawn by the appearance of three more ships, an _Imperial_ Star Destroyer, and a pair of _Vindicators_. However, instead of appearing amidst the Rebel forces, they appeared above, with their bows pointing downwards and towards the enemy ship.

It was the inverse of the old naval tactic of 'Crossing the T' from Earth, only to more devastating effect as all the batteries of three ships were at bear, while the Rebels, which were already engaged forward, now were in a position to where they _could not_ concentrate their fire, as some of their batteries could not elevate to engage the new threat.

It swiftly turned into a slaughter, as the trio of ships concentrated their firepower on the two Mon Calamari Cruisers, even as he eyes caught the telltale explosions of torpedos impacting the shields. It wasn't long before the two cruisers were drifting wrecks, and it switched from a battle to a cleanup operation, as the Rebels lost coordination, proving how poor their command and control was with the simple loss of the commander and the dependence upon a loose confederation of allies. Even now, he watched without emotion as several of the smaller ships attempted to make a run for it, only to be run down by his forces.

No, the battle was over, as anticlimactic as he thought it would be. And all that he had to prove he been in battle was significant damage to one of his _Vindicators_ that several B-Wings were able to unload their torpedos on that would require a lengthy stay in an Imperial repair yard, light to superficial damage on his other ships, the loss of maybe fifty fighters, and the expenditure of a significant stock of his ordnance.

Closing his eyes, he turned to the command pit, no longer wishing to watch what had turned into a slaughter, "Inform Admiral Sloane that she is now in charge, with regards on a job well done."

"Yes, Grand Admiral," came the response from Captain Sair Yonka, who watched as Lelouch strode past him and made his own exit from the bridge. Lelouch didn't pay any attention to his honor guard of stormtroopers that fell in behind him, his thoughts solely elsewhere.

Within a few minutes, the door slid open to his quarters and he stepped in, the darkness engulfing him as the doors slid shut, for what could have been an eternity, or maybe a nanosecond, but for himself, it was too much regardless as the ghost of his past deigned to torment him with glimpses. Taking a deep shuddering breath, he then let it out again, his hands curling into fists as he fought the deluge of emotions, ranging from boiling hot rage, to crushing depression, to anywhere in between. It took every part of him not to curl up into the fetal position and just let it all out. But he couldn't afford it, not now, not ever.

"Lights," his voice came out in a rasp, and the lights snapped on, driving back the darkness, and the ghosts, allowing him just a modicum of control that he would need next as he strode forward through his quarters and came to a stop before a holoterminal and activated it.

It took a few moments to power up and prepare, but once it did, it only took a few minutes before it alerted him that it had made a connection. Taking a shuddering breath, he braced himself as he lowered himself to a knee, the activating hologram blurring into the face of a man that he despised more than anyone he had ever.

"Report, Grand Admiral Lamperouge," Emperor Sheev Palpatine demanded.

"Rebel forces in the Airam Sector have been pacified as promised, My Emperor," Lelouch forced out, trying to prevent himself from grinding his teeth in the face of the man who had forced him into this servitude; this hell.

"Excellent, Grand Admiral, once again, you have proven my wisdom in recruiting you from that backwater hovel where your skills would have gone to waste."

This time, Lelouch could not help it as his teeth ground, but kept his head bowed in order to prevent his tormentor from gaining enjoyment from his suffering.

"Your sagacity is unquestionable, My Emperor," he ground out, failing to keep the raw emotion from his tone, and knowing without seeing, that the older man was grinning at his struggle.

"Of course it is. I have not forgotten how _special_ today is for you, for the both of us. The day in which you finally saw the light, and embrace your destiny."

_I saw neither_ , _you bastard_ , he wished to scream, but his jaw simply clenched harder to the point it hurt. _You took away my light!_

If he had been looking up to the Emperor, he would have seen the man's grin turn even wider, because he knew perfectly well the words to bludgeon his pet with in order to cause distress.

"Rejoice, my boy, you should be proud of your accomplishments in bringing order to the galaxy."

_The only accomplishment I would be proud of is ordering a Base Delta Zero upon you and your fucking Empire,_ Lelouch almost hissed, biting his lip to the point he could taste blood upon his tongue, merely offering the words spoken robotically, "I am, My Emperor. Without order, there would be only chaos."

A loud cackle was his answer, and Lelouch had to close his eyes, fighting to prevent himself from showing his emotions in the face of speaking of supporting the very thing he had spent eight years of his life fighting against upon his homeworld. Yet, it wasn't enough, as a lone tear broke through the blockade upon his emotions, quickly becoming a silent stream as he swore not to show it to this man. .

"I am so glad that you agree with me, Grand Admiral," the Sith Lord cackled, "that is why, in recognition of both this joyous anniversary, and your esteemed services to this Empire, I have ensured a gift has been delivered to your quarters from your homeworld and placed in your liquor cabinet. I do hope you enjoy it and the _memories_ it brings."

He stiffened, his mind picking up the emphasis on that word, his stomach knotting at what it could possibly be.

"I-I thank you, My Emperor."

"Think nothing of it, Grand Admiral," the Emperor waved off, "I have held you long enough from your festivities, so I will have your new orders transmitted for your perusal on the morrow. Please do enjoy my gift."

And with that, the call ended, leaving Lelouch staring at the ground, for a moment, awaiting to see if it was actually the end of the call, as Palpatine had in the past had returned, and it had ended with a thousand people rounded up and killed on the Emperor's orders. After waiting nearly ten minutes, holding his breath, he numbly rose to his feet, knowing that the man was not to return.

Robotically, he strode towards the liquor cabinet and pulled it open to several bottles of alcohol. But there was also a case that drew his attention, in an ornate lacquered box that just begged for him to open it, and as his trembling hands reached to it, and opened it.

A sob escaped his lips, as he reached with a trembling hand at what lay on the very top.

There, elegantly framed, was a picture of Kallen and himself in the midst of a kiss, a smirk on the edge of his lips even as he held the kiss, Kallen looking like she was caught between kissing him, joy, being scandalized, and chewing him out.

Pulling the picture even closer to himself, he stared at it right hand caressing 'Kallen's' cheek, already lost in the memory.

It had been just a month after he had placed his half-sister upon the throne, having had enough of war and politics for five lifetimes. He had every intention of simply living a quiet life far from any further excitement and was perfectly happy living it out with Kallen by his side.

Kallen had decided to override his wish to take her on a quiet picnic, instead demanding that he take her to the local Tanabata festival. What had resulted would have been best described as a mess, as suddenly the plan and arrangements he had in place to be discarded and he had spent an hour desperately trying to rework everything, while getting fitted for a yukata.

A near car accident later, and Kallen growing irritated with him because she had figured out that he was hiding something from her, they had arrived at the festival and it had nearly turned into a disaster. It didn't help that Kallen had been irritated with him, but he was both irritated with her and himself because things _hadn't_ been working out at all. And it may have escalated into them shouting at each other if her mother hadn't arrived just in time to intercede.

From there it worked out, even if Kallen promised to 'get to the bottom of what he was scheming', because after perusing the stalls, and with some help from her mother, he was able to get her to where he wanted that evening. It was in front of the bamboo tree, that he wrote on a tanabata his wish to marry her. When he put it up, he could still remember the look on Kallen's face after he had placed it on the tree, watching it register in her mind exactly what he had been planning for the picnic that she had ruined.

And he couldn't resist kissing her at that moment her mother taking the picture, catching her as she was gobsmacked, because in the end, _he had gotten the last laugh..._

He finally got a "Yes", once Kallen's brain had rebooted. There had been no ring because he hadn't been able to get it because of the sudden change of plans. But it hadn't mattered, because it had been _perfect._

And she died eight months later, and he was made the slave of a madman.

A tear splashed down onto the picture, as he could no longer hold it back, a choked sob escaping his lips as he hugged the picture, pulling it as close to his heart as possible without crushing it. Because it was all he had left of her, memories and what could have beens.

"I'm sorry," he whispered desperately, clutching it tighter to where he could feel the frame creak, "I'm sorry! _I'm sorry!_ _ **I'm sorry!**_ _"_

The last declaration escaped his lips as a keening wail, one so full of desperate, mourning, loneliness as he rocked on his heels. It wasn't simply that she was gone, she had been his light in the darkness; in the hell that he had made his life as he had changed the world. He had tainted his very soul with the darkest of filth, all to bring peace to a world that had never truly had it. He had committed the vilest of acts, to the point he had no longer considered himself human.

But Kallen...Kallen had only seen _the good_ that he could no longer see. She had provided so much to him and brought him back from the precipice in which he had decided that it could only end with his death. She had believed in him, when he had no longer believed in himself. She had brought back his hopes, his dreams, his everything...

And now she was gone, and the galaxy had become such a dark and lonely place for a him, a man who had nothing left to live for except a promise to her.

_Whatever happens Lelouch. Promise me. Promise me that you will do everything in your power to ensure our sacrifices were not in vain._

_I promise._

And he had honored that promise, even as he sold his very soul to the devil. Even as he drenched his hands in even more blood that he had pledged never to shred, he had done it.

And now...now he was no longer sure he could keep it up anymore. The precipice looked so beautiful, and it would be so easy…

Releasing a shuddering breath as he caught himself, he pulled the frame away, placing it down on the counter, his fingers again caressing the picture where her cheek was, he let out another choking sob, even as he looked back to the case, and found himself in a trance, slowly stepping forward to it, his hand reaching out to touch the contents ensconced in velvet or some facsimile of it.

Inside was an ornate injector, polished and gleaming in the lights, and beside that were a trio of vials containing a drug that had haunted his very life for years. Even now he could remember the bliss caused by the psychotropic hallucinogen that was Refrain. It had been his escape during those dark years. Just enough to cause a brief glimpse of happiness, but never enough to cause too much damage. It had been his constant, steady companion for years until Kallen had ripped it out of his hands and tossed it away.

_She would understand_ , a dark part of his mind whispered, as his hand brushed over the clear glass vial, critical eye judging its opacity, immediately recognizing the drug as one of the highest quality, _You just want to remember her. There's nothing wrong._

Slowly, mechanically, he grabbed the injector and a vial, sliding the vial into the loading chamber and locking it in. A soft, shuddering exhale escaped his lips, resisting the anticipatory twitching as a body well experienced in the use of the drug, his eyes both on the injector and far beyond. Closing his eyes, his left hand came up to his neck, brushing raven tresses aside to expose his it, and he brought the injector to his neck, pressing it to the skin, his finger settling into the trigger.

Maybe it was his conscience, or maybe it was a plea for someone to save him, but Lelouch's eyes snapped open, and his eyes locked with his reflections, staring at himself in mute shock, before trailing down to the picture catching Kallen's expression, and then back to himself again realizing what he was about to do.

His features darkened, face contorting into a rictus of fury, violet eyes glowing softly of magenta before an indecipherable scream erupted his lips, the injector and vial slamming against the mirror as he threw it with all of his might, cracking and pitting the glass it as the injector broke and vial splash its contents against it, Refrain of the highest quality dripping down the glass even as the material began repairing itself.

And in the mirror, a pair of blazing geass sigils had awakened to stare at their reflection in the glass.

* * *

  **ENR**

* * *

 

There had always been a sense of accomplishment to not only survive a mission, but also to achieve all of the objectives with little losses from your forces, and for Suzaku Kururugi, it had become a badge of honor that he proudly wore.

Oh, don't get him wrong, he despised the Empire and everything they stood for. But unlike Lelouch, he had accepted his situation, having decided to do his damndest in order to make the best of it and protect his home. As a result, he was in a position that was, while still fraught with tension, at least allowed him to do what he did best.

Guiltily, he could not say the same for Lelouch. Unlike, Lelouch, he hadn't had anyone outside of a few casual flings, and a semi-serious relationship with Cecile Croomy that fell apart once she realized he wasn't what she was looking for. As a result, he didn't have anywhere near the emotional or psychological baggage his friend had.

Hell, even now, eighteen years later, he wondered if he had stayed with his friend instead of leaving, would he have been able to change the direction fate would take. The knowledge that Lelouch had been captured two years later by the Emperor and given to the Eunuchs as a 'gift' to 'mold' into the perfect puppet husband for their Empress was something that would haunt him for the rest of his life and likely beyond.

It was evident that the year he had spent there before being rescued had a dramatic impact upon Lelouch, to the point that the boy that had emerged from that hell as a teenager had been irrevocably damaged. And he hadn't even realized just how far until he had already declared vendetta upon Zero when he had not only massacred the JLF at Narita, but had personally killed Cornelia there.

No, it would be fair that he hadn't just killed Cornelia, he had tortured her, taking the time and care of ripping her apart emotionally and psychologically in front of all to see, before he killed her as she begged for death after 'Zero' had taken the time to enlighten her with what had happened to Lelouch. That had been when he had declared to avenge Cornelia for Euphemia, not realizing until Lelouch had disappeared, that Zero and Lelouch had been one and the same, and by then he had convinced himself that only he could put down the rabid beast that wore the face of his friend.

He did wonder though, if it hadn't been for Kallen, would Lelouch have turned the world to ash in his mad quest of revenge clad in the idea of creating a better world. It was something that haunted him even now, because now without Kallen, he worried not only for Lelouch, but for home…

Because he wasn't sure how much longer duty would be able to hold Lelouch back from either descending back into that darkness, or simply choosing to end it all. It worried him, but the problem was, no matter how much he wanted to blame Lelouch. He couldn't. And the best he could do was try to be there, and try to honor his own promise to Kallen to look out for Lelouch.

The lift coming to a stop, he took a cleansing breath and adjusted his uniform before the doors opened up. Taking one last moment to double-check himself, he stepped into the corridor striding past a security checkpoint that's officer merely glanced at him then went back to work, having recognized him. After a short while he came to another door, this time flanked by two Stormtroopers.

"Emil, looking as lovely as ever," he greeted the leftmost stormtrooper.

"Up yours, Commander," came the reply with the stormtrooper, though here was no passion in it, Suzaku's lips twitching upwards in a smile, knowing the woman was likewise smiling behind the plasteel helmet.

Emilashl Fritol's story was one of many of the 'recruits' Lelouch's fleet had picked up on its various 'stops' over the years. The girl had become enamored with Lelouch when he had arrived in the Phaeda System tracking smugglers. At the time, the Imperial garrison was heavily corrupt, choosing to work with the smugglers for kickbacks while at the same time cracking down on anyone they pleased. That had quickly changed when then Captain Lamperouge had proceeded to gut the garrison, replacing it with his troops. But as with every planetary visit, recruitment took place, with some lucky enough to actually go with the fleet to learn on the go. Emilashl had been of those lucky ones, wanting to get away from the filth and despair that had been Phaeda. She had never looked back, rising through the ranks through sheer determination and drive, earning Lelouch's attention and being assigned as one of his personal guard.

In fact, many of the crew in Lelouch's fleet were those that were found on his recruitment drives, many who had come to see Lelouch as more than a commander. To many, he had become a way of life.

"Rodosem," Suzaku greeted the other stormtrooper, who merely nodded his head, "he in there?"

"Since he handed over command to Admiral Sloane."

_That long_ , Suzaku mused, his smirk turning into a frown, knowing that they shared his same worry for Lelouch. Taking a breath, he nodded to the two of them, before accessing the keypad, and entering the code that opened the portal to Leouch's quarters and stepping through when it opened.

Scanning the room, he sighed, shaking his head as he knew where Lelouch had likely gone, instead moving through the quarters into a different part of it and coming to a stop at the sight before him.

Draped over a luxurious synthleather couch, a half-empty bottle of Corellian whiskey in his hands and staring vacantly into nothingness, his eyes glowing with the telltale sigil of Geass, was Lelouch.

Taking a moment to stare him, he then let out an explosive sigh that had been resting in his gut, knowing that this was _not_ going to be a good evening. Walking over the bar, he stopped as his eyes took in the picture sitting on the counter, before Suzaku began cursing up a storm in select and acquired Huttese profanity that went so far as to question the legitimacy of several generations of Palpatine's ancestors.

Storming over to the cabinet, flinging it open, a part of him processing the open case of fucking Refrain and remnants of the injector here and there along with dried residue of Refrain itself on the glass. Filing it away for later, and when he was suitably plastered, he grabbed a bottle of Breath of Heaven and proceeded to fill the shot glass before tossing it back, wincing at the taste that was akin to rubbing alcohol with a hint of sugar in the aftertaste before grabbing another a pair of glasses and walking over to Lelouch, extricating the bottle and walking to a table, setting both glasses down and filling them, before placing the bottle down and returning with the glass, placing it in Lelouch's hand, ensuring that Lelouch wrapped his hand around it.

That done, he walked over to the chair beside the table, and grabbed the glass and held it in both hands as he leaned forward.

"Would you have over imagined eighteen years ago we'd become alcoholics?"

Lelouch snorted, shaking his head and causing a brief smile grace Suzaku's lips as he took a sip of his alcohol, savoring the crisp, woodsy taste of the Whyren's Reserve. At least Lelouch wasn't too far gone like other times.

"You started us down that path when you snuck that nihonshu out to the shed," Lelouch retorted, his nose wrinkling in disgust, "how the hell we got into drinking that shit I will never know, I thought you were trying to kill us."

"You were the one that dared me," Suzaku replied with a laugh, remembering happier times, before everything went to hell.

"You didn't protest too damn much!"

An affable shrug was Lelouch's response, as a tense silence enveloped them again, Suzaku took the time to finish off his glass before pouring another one.

"Six more confirmed by the way. They're still working to piece together if I got another six, though I'm pretty sure I got four of them.."

"Oh, the vaunted Squadron-Killer Kururugi didn't get his twelve. I'm disappointed in you Suzu."

Smirking slightly, Suzaku waited for Lelouch to actually sip from his alcohol before having a little bit of fun.

"Oh, you're right, Lelouch. I am losing my touch with killing fighters, I mean, it's not like I was busy putting a few rockets into an MC40a that Intel is trying to figure out if I was the one that landed the killing blow."

Watching Lelouch choke on the expensive whiskey was definitely worth it, he decided, watching as his raven-haired struggled to catch his breath, a pair of Geass Sigils glaring right at him. It wasn't like Lelouch could order him to do anything with it anyways.

"You don't do anything half-assed," Lelouch observed after finally catching his breath.

"Since when have I ever?"

"True," Lelouch responded, finishing off his drink and holding it out for Suzaku to refill, which he did.

Satisfied that maybe he had broken the ice just enough, he decided to try and get to the bottom of both the picture and the Refrain he had spotted. He knew he wasn't going to like the answers, but he knew, for both their sakes, that he had to regardless.

"I take it the Refrain and picture are a gift from His Decrepit-ness," he asked, locking his eyes with Lelouch as the glass was topped off.

Lelouch stilled, looking to him for a moment, before moving his gaze to the picture on the bar, then the Refrain, and with a slouch of the shoulders, he finally nodded, looking far older than his twenty-seven years of age.

"He said to enjoy the memories," Lelouch finally said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I-," his voice broke off in a choke, before he looked up to Suzaku, Geass still activated, but tears shining in his eyes, "It hurts Suzaku, it hurts so much. I promised her...I promised her that I would never lose myself to my memories...but how can I do it when it is the only place I can find _her_?"

"How," he continued, his left hand placing itself over his heart, clenching the white material of the uniform, "I've done horrible things in my life, Suzaku. Things I can never be proud of. I promised her that I would never go back to being that person! But how can I keep lying to myself that I am not that man? How can I sit here and say I can be someone I never was? How can I be good...when the only goodness in my life is gone?"

Suzaku sat there quietly, staring at his blood brother before looking down at his own drink, losing himself in the amber liquid.

How indeed was the question. He could not sit here and say that he understood, because he would be lying if he did. In fact, the only person who could say that they understood was the very person who had dragged Lelouch back from the abyss, and she was no longer amongst them.

The thing he should say is that he should honor the promise to her, but he had a feeling it would not result in a way that was favorable to all that were involved. He had become an expert over the years upon Lelouch's moods and body language, and right now, if he did, he had no doubt in his mind that it may just be the last time that he sees him alive again.

"Maybe you don't," the words escaped his lips before he could stop himself.

Lelouch's head snapped up in mute shock, staring at him with wide eyes disbelievingly, too stunned to believe that his friend would suggest such a thing.

"It's killing you, Lelouch," he finally said, "tearing you apart. Do you believe Kallen would want you like this?"

"She wouldn't want me to be like _that_ ," Lelouch hissed, "never again."

"No," he found himself agreeing, "she wouldn't. But she would understand, Lelouch. She always understood. And she loved you without reservation, because she knew, that despite how you viewed yourself, regardless of everything you did, you were a good man. A passionate and flawed man, but nonetheless a great man who helped change the world for the better. That's what she saw in you, Lelouch. So no, she wouldn't want you to go back to what you had been, but I don't believe, and I doubt you do, that you would descend that far back into the darkness."

Lelouch's eyes averted downward again, his expression becoming pensive, and for the life of him, Suzaku wished he had Mao's Geass, to at least know what was going through his mind. Alas, that was not to be, and he could only hope that maybe, Lelouch would at least some see some light in what he was saying.

Not a lot of people realized just what sort of influence Kallen had on Lelouch, even now. And if people had known, it was likely that Kallen would have been valued much more than Lelouch ever had been. In the shadow of the Demon, she had been warm, caring, yet fierce and protective, unafraid to stand up to him when she felt what he had been doing was wrong. If anything, she was the true hero of it all, and no one would ever realize it.

And it seemed, that once again, she would continue on being a hero, even now.

"You're right," Lelouch's voice came out in a croak, "I just...I miss her so much, Suzaku. I would give anything for her to be here now. I just...it's so hard. What would she say, Suzaku? I'm fighting for an empire that makes Britannia look saintly."

"You know perfectly well she wouldn't judge you Lelouch. In fact, I have no doubt she would say you were a hero, sacrificing yourself to ensure that our homeworld stays safe, that at least the people we have left behind can at least still have a life relatively free."

"Is it?"

This caused Suzaku to freeze, unable to say anything back, as Lelouch looked up, expression turning into one of pensiveness, before he shook his head.

"No," Lelouch said, finishing off his glass before pouring himself another finger, continuing, "you're right. Palpatine is a monster, but he's not stupid. He knows that if something happens to Earth, then I will stop at nothing to burn his little Empire to the ground."

Recognizing at least a semblance of dismissal, and the fact that he reports to fill out himself, Suzaku realized now would at least be a decent time to do his work, before he became intoxicated, that and he had a dinner to attend, one that he was not looking to skip.

"You good?"

"Yeah," came Lelouch's response, "I'm good."

"Get some sleep, Lelouch. You look like you need it."

And with that said, Suzaku rose to his feet, finishing off his Whyren's Reserve, and headed out. Lelouch listening intently for the sound of the doors opening and then closing. Downing the rest of his drink, he rose to his feet, legs protesting the sudden weight upon them while his mind protesting that he had too much to drink. He then walked over to the bar, and grabbed the picture, and slowly strode towards his bedroom, not even taking the time to take off any of his clothes, and simply falling into bed, holding the photo frame.

Slowly, reverently, he placed the photo on the pillow beside his own, staring at the photo from a lifetime ago his fingers brushing up against the glass. And as he did so, his eyes starting to slide closed, and the events of the day finally began to register, he was reminded of a line from a book that had exemplified his life to the point where he had read it religiously for years until he had met Kallen:

_There is neither happiness nor unhappiness in the world; there is only the comparison of one state with another. Only a man who has felt ultimate despair is capable of feeling ultimate bliss. It is necessary to have wished for death in order to know how good it is to live…_ , his eyes had completely closed now, the sweet arms of Morpheus embracing him, _the sum of all of human wisdom will be contained in these...two words: Wait….and…..Ho-_

And for Lelouch vi Britannia, those words no longer mattered in the respite of sleep.


	2. A Dance of Imperials

There were days like these that Mon Mothma found trying. It wasn't just the responsibilities that she had as the de facto leader of the Alliance to Restore the Republic, it was all the tragedies and triumphs that came with it. And unfortunately, for the three years, it had been a slew of losses and tragedies that weighed heavily upon her. For each success, it seemed to be tempered by at least one failure, and each instance of ground gained, seemed to be at a loss that was magnified by how few had in the face of what they found.

That was why, in spite of herself, she was worried that there would be no successful overthrow of the Emperor in her lifetime. At times, it seemed to large, too numerous, too widespread, and the people just too beat down, to defeat such a juggernaut. And at other times, she found that spark in the fact that it was a matter of what _must_ be done, regardless of the cost upon all of them.

Yet, it was a meeting like this, that she found the difficulty in maintaining that spark.

"Admiral Ackbar, you have called this meeting, I take it you have news that you wish to share with us," she asked, her gaze going across the table at the Mon Cal, before sweeping across to the other man who was also seated.

"Unfortunately, I do, Mon Mothma," the Mon Cal rasped, "I regret to inform you that Admiral Kinnex has failed to report in as scheduled."

That was one of the last things she had wanted to hear considering the strategic implications that the loss of the Airam Sector entailed. Situated in between the Hydian and Rammel trade routes, it also was strategically located so it could act as a springboard into more significant sectors while providing a fallback point and dependable allies in the Airam Clans that populated the sector. It had been planned for the Airam Sector to eventually be a staging point for a series of raids and attacks to take back some of the momentum that had been lost since Hoth.

Sadly, it seemed it was not to be.

"Could it be that the Admiral has been merely delayed?"

"That is unlikely," came the response that she had expected, "the last report from Admiral Kinnex is that he was launching an attack upon Grand Admiral Lamperouge's flagship that had become disabled. That was over a day ago. It is likely that all ships that were involved in the attack were lost, along with our Airam allies."

"How bad is it Admiral?"

"Catastrophic, Chancellor. With the loss of the _Liberty_ and _Crucible_ , our capital ship assets have been halved in the sector. I would recommend that we abandon the sector for now, save what assets we can, then return at a later time. Right now, we don't have the forces for protracted campaign against the likes of Admiral Lamperouge."

Her head turned to the left of Ackbar, meeting the gaze of Garm Bel Iblis. While there still remained a level of tension from the past, it had been at both General Madine and Admiral Ackbar's insistence that she reached out and at least attempted to patch up the difference between the two. If it hadn't been for Admiral Lamperouge's attacks upon Garm, it was likely that they would not be sitting in the same room right now, let alone working together.

"I agree with Gial," Garm answered her silent query, "trying to hold the Airam Sector at the moment with Lamperouge in the area would only play into his hand. Our commanders are not equipped for the fact that Lamperouge does _not_ fight like an Imperial."

"So, once again, we are faced with another setback courtesy of Admiral Lamperouge," she intoned in a grave tone.

In fact, it seemed setbacks were the only thing that were suffered in the face of Lamperouge. Since he had appeared out of nowhere nine years ago, he had swiftly become one of the Empire's foremost experts in counterinsurgency, dealing the Alliance defeat after defeat in his campaigns. Pirates fared even worse against him, to where the rumor that Lamperouge was in the area was enough to drive many of the pirates to ground in the hope that he would ignore them for some other prey.

No, the Emperor's Bloodhound was not an enemy the Alliance could afford. It was only the luck that Palpatine seemed to keep Lamperouge on a leash that likely prevented the man from doing more than simply putting out fires. She feared what would happen if Palpatine set both Vader and Lamperouge after them, and wondered why he hadn't.

"We cannot afford to maintain these sorts of losses, Admiral, General," she finally spoke, "not with the recent rumors that have been circulating about another Death Star. I believe it would be wise of us to accept the offer of Vice Admiral Harkov."

This caused a discernible amount of tension. Both males were firmly against recruiting Harkov for the simple fact that the man was still an Imperial at heart, the man's mercenary habits were more pronounced.

"I would still argue against it," Ackbar cautioned, "while militarily it would be a boon to our forces, it would put additional strain upon our logistics in order to supply his fleet with arms. Worse, as with any mercenary, what's to stop him from deciding it's no longer prudent to work with us?"

"Garm?"

Stroking his beard, the former senator from Corellia was quiet for a few moments, a contemplative look upon his face.

"It is likely that Lamperouge would be sent to hunt Harkov," he finally spoke, "there is no love lost between the two men if the stories are to be believed, and Palpatine has always shown a certain predilection for making things personal. If anything, Harkov would be a welcome distraction, providing our forces some respite from being hunted by someone like Lamperouge, despite the political implications of hiring someone like him."

"But it would buy us what we desperately need: time. I will contact Harkov. Admiral Ackbar, see if you can spare the bare minimum of support for the time being with the knowledge that we will not look too poorly upon them if they choose to avoid losses."

A small twitch of Garm's lips was the only sign that both officers realized what Mothma was saying: If it gets too hot, pull out and they will be covered.

In other words, they were going to get Harkov to defect, then leave him to wither on a vine.

"Of course, Chancellor," Ackbar replied.

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

"Imperial Center, never before has there existed such a wretched hive of scum and villainy in the galaxy," Lelouch muttered to himself, standing upon the veranda opening out to provide a view of the cityscape, "a city that doesn't even have the decency to sleep."

"Could be worse, Lelouch," Suzaku chimed in, stepping forward with a tumbler of amber liquid in hand, before handing it to Lelouch who stared at it for a moment.

"Define worse," Lelouch responded, before sipping his drink pensively.

For a moment, Suzaku remained silent, before releasing an explosive sigh as he could not find any argument to refute the ravenette. Instead, he chose to take the better of two paths and mimic him by sipping his own drink, letting the alcohol burn a trail to his stomach before settling, staving off the bitter chill coming off the Manarai Mountains in the distance.

"Don't you ever get tired of being right," he finally answered, instead choosing to at least try and distract his friend from any further brooding. It seemed like the last three days the only damn thing Lelouch did was brood and do paperwork. The latter was a necessity, the former...not so much. And frankly, there was only so much brooding he could take from Lelouch before even his patience was tried.

Unfortunately, it seemed to be the wrong question to ask, as what connection the two of them had was abruptly cut, Lelouch's eyes adopting a faraway look as he directed his gaze back to the cityscape. For a moment, Suzaku was worried that he may have gone too far. Then again, it felt like since that day that Lelouch was slipping away faster than ever before and there was increasingly little he could do to stem the tide.

"Yes," he finally said, surprising Suzaku, though there was a softness to Lelouch's tone that caused alarm bells to blare in his head, "I do."

Leaving that cryptic answer be, Suzaku raked his mind for some way to direct his friend's attention elsewhere, and after a few moments hit upon an idea.

"The Interdictor's becoming sluggish," he announced, watching for Lelouch's reply and was promptly rewarded with a snort.

"You're flying a glorified dump truck of missile spam, Suzaku. What the hell did you think was going to happen?"

"No, I mean the controls," Suzaku shot back, "half the time I find the damn thing fighting me for every turn, sluggishness aside. I've had the techs recalibrate it three times and it only feels more sluggish."

Lelouch's left hand reached up and massaged the bridge of his nose, an irritated sigh escaping his lips.

"First, it was the Fighter. Then, the Bomber. Now you're saying the Interdictor isn't good enough. Do you know how much trouble you have caused me with your latest selection?"

"I'll be honest in saying yes," Suzaku replied sheepishly, "but I'll also admit that I'm unaware of the specifics."

"I've lost count over the years how many times I've been told that 'aces don't pilot bombers'," Lelouch began, eyes glaring daggers at his friend, "they were happy to humor you with the TIE Bomber, thinking you'd either get yourself killed or get with the program. But no, you decide that instead of returning to the fold, you want to double down and acquire a bomber that is one of maybe a couple hundred in existence."

"I'm….sorry?"

"No, you're not," Lelouch snorted, "No, if you were sorry, you wouldn't have caused Raith Sienar to blow me up with accusations that I was fudging your combat data. I lost count at how many times I was accused before he realized I wasn't fudging and you weren't a fluke before he started working to have that data used in training new bomber pilots. And now you want to change fighters _again_."

"I can't help it," Suzaku responded in a half-whine, "as much as I like the Interdictor, it just isn't cutting it anymore."

"You need to stop kriffing improving!"

And there they stood at an impasse, both refusing to bow down, just like so many times in the old days. In a way, it was a better time, an easier time, when it was like that. Their roles clearly defined, and there wasn't the politics and muck that had defined their current state.

Rolling his eyes, Lelouch took a hearty sip from his drink, relenting in the face that if Suzaku was complaining about it, then it was likely worse than he was making it.

"Interceptor?"

It was Suzaku's turn to scoff, "It'll be a cold day in hell before I give Soontir the satisfaction to rub in my face how I finally converted to 'best fighter'."

"The Avenger is just coming off the assembly line."

"Really Lelouch? The Avenger? Didn't we have an argument last month over how it's a waste of time and money outside of a technology demonstrator? And you're asking me if I want it? I'd rather be back in a Fighter."

Casting a look that chided Suzaku for his sudden childishness, Lelouch turned around and headed to where his desk was, Suzaku following after him in curiosity. Rifling through his desk, Lelouch then retrieved a datapad and handed it to Suzaku.

"Raith sent me this yesterday. It seems Zaarin isn't one to rest on his laurels and already has a basic prototype completed for the next TIE model. You interested?"

Taking the datapad, Suzaku took the time to read it, unable to contain his curiosity as to why Raith Sienar would be sending data on a new starfighter in development unless it was something that would interest Lelouch.

Reading the data, he realized that yes, it would be something that would interest Lelouch. Especially when it fit in perfectly with what was being called by some military insiders as the _Lamperouge Doctrine_. Suzaku was loathe to call it a doctrine as much as simple pragmatism and efficiency, but it seemed there were some that needed a title for it so they could attack it and its patron.

"Defender, huh," Suzaku mused, handing back to the pad to Lelouch, "consider me intrigued. It may not have the warhead capacity of my Interdictor, but I'll take it."

"Alright," Lelouch sighed, obviously not enthused by the fact that Suzaku was wanting one, "I'll see what it'll cost me with Raith and Zaarin to get one. You know how zealous Demetrius is when it comes to his toys."

"Unfortunately."

Whatever Lelouch's response would have been was never to be, as the sound of the door chime announcing a guest caused both to turn to the source, before they both looked at each other in askance. The silent exchange quickly established that neither of them were expecting visitors, yet that didn't change the fact that there was someone at the door.

After a moment, Lelouch began moving again, striding up to the door and opening it only to quickly stand aside as an sea of copper brushed by him, guided with laser-like accuracy towards Suzaku who suddenly looked like he wished to be elsewhere.

"Suzaku Kururugi," the copper-haired woman dressed in the uniform of an Imperial Admiral snapped, continuing her march towards him, "you have been on Coruscant for the last three hours and not once have you commed me since you've entered system."

"Don't look to him," the woman snapped as Suzaku looked helplessly to him, obviously looking for him to bail him out. And for a moment, Lelouch took pity upon his friend.

After all, it was partially his fault that Suzaku had been drawn into the larger-than-life orbit of Admiral Natasi Daala. Well, more like predominantly his fault. After all, he had been the one who had unintentionally nabbed her from Tarkin's clutches after a few simulated skirmishes in which he had firmly handed her her ass with an inferior order of battle. What had been a mere slight had turned into an obsession for her until she had discovered that the very same man who had been defeating her had also been the man who had given Grand Moff Tarkin trouble when he had encountered Earth.

Suffice to say, after a few meetings, discussions on overall military philosophy, and Emperor Palpatine deciding that the Maw Installation should be run by someone other than Daala, had found Natasi's star that had been dependent upon Tarkin's continued existence once again plummeting, she found herself inadvertently drawn into his cabal of rebels and mavericks who flaunted their disdain for tradition.

And the rest, as they say it, was history. Natasi Daala had become something of his go-to option in regards to testing new technologies and tactics, with her battlegroup of modified Star Destroyers usually operating independently of his command in order to gain battle data. In this case, she was fresh from reconnaissance and suppression in the Koradin Sector.

Deciding to bail his friend out from the krayt dragon-like wrath of his on-again-off-again-and-currently-Lelouch-honestly-did-not-wish-to-know-completely-entirely-secret girlfriend, he decided to throw himself in the line of fire.

"It's my fault, Natasi," he spoke, drawing the irritated green gaze of the Admiral, "I've been discussing with Suzaku some changes in our starfighter complement and tactics. I haven't exactly afforded him the opportunity to contact you."

Her eyes narrowed, obviously trying to tell if he was trying to cover for Suzaku, which he was, to Suzaku's noticeable relief which quickly disappeared when her head snapped back towards him searching for signs of deceit. After a moment, she seemed satisfied, as she changed subjects, "How did she do?"

'She' was Lelouch's new flagship, the _Ineluctable_ , the first of what was classified as the _Dominus_ -class Star Destroyer. Shorter than its brethren the _Imperial_ , the _Dominus,_ as indicated by its name,was designed solely to dominate the battlefield in space, sacrificing the amenities and troop complement that the _Imperial_ boasted, it was meant to take the fight to and win against anything in its weight class. With 120 TIEs and point defense clusters dotting its hull, it was meant to truly be a standalone ship if necessary like its smaller cousin that it was inspired by, the _Vindicator._

"Better than we anticipated," Lelouch responded, knowing that Daala took special interest in her considering the _Dominus_ had been the brainchild of the two of them and several others, "I've already forwarded to Raith and requested that he greenlights the initial flight of twelve."

"Good," Daala replied with a nod, obviously satisfied with the fact that they had been successful. There was already some grumbling in Imperial Center on how the _Dominus_ was not a 'proper' standard bearer for the Imperial Navy. Some of the loudest were those with intimate ties with Kuat Drive Yards, a company that would not like any competition to their precious Star Destroyers. To have it fail on its maiden deployment would not be preferable for anyone involved.

Looking between the two, and the fact that Daala had looked back to Suzaku for a moment, and he sighed, an unwanted feeling bubbling in his chest at the sight before him.

"Whatever," he muttered with a wave of his hand, "you two catch up and I'll see you at the party."

Taking that as the best possible form of dismissal, Daala grabbed Suzaku and began dragging him out, and after the door closed behind them, Lelouch slowly walked over to his desk, noting a text message alert icon in the corner. Recognizing the account, he opened it, reading the message.

**I found Melville to be a bit droll in his characters and dry in his writing. Knight to E5. Check. Pakuuni was uninspiring.**

Smirking at the statement, he shifted gears to envisioning a chess board in his head, before grimacing as he recognized his dire situation on the board. He quickly typed a response.

**You and a lot of people. Mate in Three. Well played, Admiral. Airam was an exercise in boredom management.**

With that, he sent the message, closing the window on the terminal and moving through his apartment and to his study. In there, he walked over to one of the few things he had kept with him over the last nine years, something he could not bear to part with.

One of the things that Kallen and himself had shared was an avid love of reading, especially of the rare edition classics. As a gift to her, he had taken the time to build a library in their home and purchase several hundred of books to fill it.

When Palpatine had forced him into servitude, it had been one of the few requests that Palpatine had granted in the beginning. While the Emperor had stated that he could respect his love of the 'fine arts', Lelouch had a deeper suspicion that it was that and the fact that Palpatine somehow knew that the library was special to him.

So when he visited Coruscant, he always ensured that he spent at least some time in this room, both for the memories these books represented, but also to continue going with the little things, like reading the books that had been purchased.

Walking over to one of the walls lined with books, he ran his finger softly across the spines of those books, a melancholy look on his face even as he searched for the book that came to mind for his fellow Admiral to read next. Finally coming to what he wanted, he slowly pulled out the leather-bound cover and handled it carefully. A faint smile on his face at the knowledge this particular book brought, as Kallen had loved to needle him with it.

Stepping away, he took a moment to look at the rest of the books, noting which ones he had read over the years, and which ones he hadn't. His eyes then landed on another book, set out from all the rest in a way that emphasized its importance, at least to him. For a few moments, he felt the urge to claim it, to read it, to finish it, but as quickly as it was there, it was gone, left only with the memories of the polite disagreement between Kallen who loved that book more than any other, and himself, who could not identify with it.

"Maybe next time," he murmured softly, turning away and stepping out of the study, the door sliding close behind him and bathing the room in darkness again as the lights cut out.

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

Once upon a time, Lelouch would have laughed at the saying that corruption was universal. Now, after nine years of being in the galaxy, Lelouch found that not only was it applicable, it was unfortunately, part and parcel of the Imperial Center. Yet, it was nothing compared to Empire Day, the damnable and mandatory celebration for everyone to mark the day in which Chancellor Sheev Palpatine became Emperor.

Normally, Lelouch generally avoided it, using his work in the Outer Rim in order to keep a wide berth from being in the vicinity of the politics and corruption that made Pendragon seem like a group of children playing with a tea set. No, if he had the option, he would not be here.

But his orders had been adamant and would not accept any attempts at deviation. So, he was here, hobnobbing with many of the worst of the worst of the Empire.

He knew Palpatine took special amusement in the fact that, by the large, Lelouch was amongst a den of enemies both politically and militarily. He was a man who had appeared out of nowhere and rose the ranks quickly while challenging many of the conventions of tactics and strategy. No, he was not very popular, to the point of being a leper.

Soon, he decided to take a break, slipping out and taking the time to walk to both catch his breath, and to await the arrival of another.

Sadly, his intentions died swiftly and their killer one of the last people he wished to _ever_ be alone with.

"A fine evening, isn't it, Grand Admiral Lamperouge."

Stiffening ever so slightly, he slowly turned, violet eyes meeting molten-red and icy-blue.

"It is, Director Isard," he lied, keeping his expression benign even as he collected himself himself for the trial ahead.

Ysanne (or Insane as Suzaku called her, something that Lelouch found himself agreeing with) Isard had been a constant source of disquiet in the years since he had won his first victory. First as a field agent, then the Director of Imperial Intelligence, she had access to information that he would be hard-pressed to acquire in the field, requiring that he develop at least a working relationship with her in order to succeed. It still did not ignore the fact that the woman was tasked with ascertaining the loyalty of those in the Empire as well, and Lelouch was _far_ from loyal.

"I heard about your success in the Airam Sector," Isard purred, clad in her red uniform, holding a pair of wine glasses she sauntered towards him, "a rather impressive victory, considering many believed you would be months in corralling the rebels."

She then offered him a wine glass as she stepped just inside of his comfort zone, her mismatched eyes never leaving his.

"Thank you," he responded, struggling to ascertain why Isard was acting in the way she was.

Still, expectations _had_ to be met, and he accepted the wine glass with only a moment's hesitation. Holding it up in a toast, he merely raised an eyebrow in query.

A small smile appeared upon her face, and if Lelouch didn't know the monster that wore the skin of this woman, he may have found it attractive, "To the Empire's continued prosperity."

"To continued prosperity, then," Lelouch agreed, softly tapping her glass with his before emptying the cup, the fine wine tasting like ash upon his lips in lieu of who he was sharing this toast with, his eyes never leaving hers. While they had a working relationship, it was an extremely far cry to being a friendship, considering that if the woman viewed it as beneficial to her own aims, she would sell him out without any hesitation.

Finishing the drink, he placed the glass down upon the baluster railing, then froze when her hand found its way onto his. Eyes darting between the hand and then back to Isard who was now uncomfortably close to him, "What are-"

"You know prosperity comes in many forms, Grand Admiral," she continued, her hand caressing his, and Lelouch had to stop himself from reacting violently toward the woman, knowing that if he did so it would be be his downfall, yet at the same time…," success, wealth, power," she leaned in, her face within a hairsbreadth of his face, "sex."

And for a moment, as horror began to creep up his spine, he thought she actually going to force herself completely upon him, before she shifted, leaning up and to his right, her lips now scant millimeters from his ear.

"Xizor sold you out to the Emperor."

Lelouch reared back in shock, the only thing keeping him close was Isard's hand upon his, and if he wasn't processing those words, he would have likely broken away completely.

He had approached Prince Xizor of the Black Sun almost six years ago, having just become a Vice Admiral. It had been one of the few moments he had let yearning to know what was happening upon Earth and its location take control of him. In return for Xizor using his underworld contacts to find his homeworld, Lelouch would from time to time, when it was convenient, eliminate impediments to Xizor's Black Sun in a manner that was come off as legitimate, but would benefit Xizor completely. While he was aware of Xizor's tendencies to backstab when there was a deal that was more convenient for him, he had thought he had cornered the man significantly in a manner that Xizor would think twice about betraying him.

It seems he had underestimated the Falleen's stupidity.

The fact that he was not dead yet and Palpatine had not already contacted him in order to rub salt into his open wounds meant that the Emperor was waiting for something. Or, quite likely as well, he was just holding onto that card to play at a later time.

But that was for later, as he recognized at least a little bit of subterfuge that was now involved. What mattered now was to play it off in order for both parties involved to part ways, providing anyone who may be observing a story that was contrary to what had really happened.

And if Isard was fishing, or god forbid, attracted to him, this would provide more information than what he was comfortable with.

"I apologize, Director, but I must respectfully decline," he forced a smile on his face, "I made a vow to my beloved and I will not disrespect her memory by violating that vow. I hope you will understand and I apologize if I may have misled you."

A statement for both to save face, and leading any observers to try and recollect if there had been any other incidents that would lead to this series of events. Add in Isard's known lust for power, and it fit into the scene that was presented. It was crude, but effective, and the subtle nod from the Director was enough to show that she approved.

"Of course, Grand Admiral. My condolences upon your loss as I was unaware that you were previously engaged. May I ask as to what happened?"

"She was killed in a terror attack," he responded, wondering if the comment of engagement was unintended or an actual probe for information, hoping to catch him admitting something she was unable to confirm.

"Again, my condolences, Grand Admiral. It seems the Rebellion has taken away something dear to the both of us."

"Of course," he offered back, though the smile was as wintry as her namesake, showing he was displeased with sharing that information with her. Something that they could both respect. After all, weakness could lead to death.

Sensing the finality of that statement, Iceheart began to walk away, before stopping at one of the ornate glass doors, turning around to face him.

"I bid you good evening, _Denka_."

Lelouch paled as Isard left him alone, recognizing the _Japanese_ honorific for 'Your Highness' that Isard had offered him. Something that she could not possibly know...unless she had an idea of where he originated from and who he was.

And if she knew that….what else did she know?

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

"Suzaku!"

Suzaku turned to the new voice, having been in a chat with a starfighter designer and his wife, talking about improvements that could be made to the TIE series.

"Soontir," he greeted, shaking the extended hand, "it's good to see you again."

"You as well, you still piloting that oversized bantha?"

"And if I was?"

"Then I would once again try to convert you to the best starfighter in the Empire."

This drew a laugh from both men, Suzaku grinning a bit easier considering the friendship the two had built over the years. While the casualty rate of Imperial pilots was horrendous, there was still those who were able to reach the status of ace regardless of the difficulty in piloting an unshielded craft such as the TIE. So when there appears a pilot who is achieving multiple aces in a TIE Bomber, well, you tend to be noticed quickly. It had been Soontir Fel who had extended the first olive branch to Suzaku, as many of the other aces in the fleet refused to acknowledge a bomber ace. From there, it had bloomed into a close friendship in which the two would send messages back and forth every few days, with a lot of the time, Soontir jokingly trying to get him to 'convert' to the Interceptor.

Suzaku never would, but that was beside the point.

"You'll end up disappointed," Suzaku mockingly chided, causing both men to laugh again, the starfighter designer slipping away, honestly not a fan of the 'Mad Bomber". Suzaku couldn't care less though, he had made his point and it was enough for his own sanity, "I'm actually talking to Lelouch about upgrading to one of Zaarin's new brainchildren.

"The Avenger," Soontir looked like he had sucked a grape, it seemed that both of them didn't like the fighter that was pretty much a suped-up Interceptor with shields and a hyperdrive. Too much time and money went into a design that honestly could have been spent upon improving the Interceptor's design.

"Gods, no."

'Good. I'd be rather put out if you decided to pilot that thing."

"Nah, I'm not going to betray you like that," Suzaku laughed, "if I was, I'd be going with something a bit sexier."

This caused the other pilot's eyes to narrow, "I swear Kururugi, if you upgrade to another bantha….."

"Relax, relax," came Suzaku's response, waving his hand, "I think I'm coming back to the promised land and piloting a fighter. Need to show you up and convert you instead."

"That'll be a cold day in hell," was the mocking response, which only drew a smirk from Suzaku, knowing that it'd likely make Wynnsa a happier woman if he was in something a little less delicate like the Interceptor.

Speaking of which…

"Where is Wynnsa, by the way, you two are usually inseparable for these kinds of events."

"She's on Corellia with family," the Baron replied, though Suzaku quickly got the hidden message, having been one of the only people Soontir confided in.

"Well, give her my regards then."

"I will."

"So," Suzaku looked around his surroundings, spotting several people he did recognize simply because it was necessary, before coming to rest upon Lelouch who was off to the side, his expression unusually tight as he talked with Raith Sienar, "is it me or are there more obekka tsukai today?"

"It's not you," came the response at the recognized tiered code phrase in Suzaku's native language, both denoting an increase in the usual flatterers, but also calling attention to Lelouch, his gaze having already followed Suzaku's, "the recent successes has caused an upsurge in opportunity for many."

"Not sure if that is fortunate, or unfortunate," Suzaku murmured, Lelouch's eyes meeting his for a moment, before they went back to the man he was talking with, and Suzaku looked back to Soontir, "hopefully there will be a bit more clarity in a few days."

"One can only hope," came the agreement, before a sigh escaped his lips, "one can only hope."

"Indeed."

"So...do you have a moment to talk about our lord and saviour, the TIE Interceptor?"

This drew a sharp laugh from Suzaku, as the tension in the last few moments bled away, "Why the kriff not?"

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

"I'll see what I can do. You know how difficult Demetrius is when it comes to his designs."

"I know, that's why I'm coming to you first, Raith. If I went to Demetrius personally, the man is likely to simply toss the request back in my face. He doesn't like competitors, and the success of the _Ineluctable_ is going to make the guy insufferable in his requests."

For a moment, Raith stood there silently contemplating as he sipped from his glass of Coruscanti wine, and for a moment, Lelouch wondered if he was going to turn it down. While Zaarin and Raith worked together, it was a marriage of convenience than any sort of mutual friendship, Zaarin was brilliant in creating (or stealing) ground-breaking new tech, and Raith's management of Sienar Fleet Systems provided a rich atmosphere in which to breed these ideas.

"I'm pretty sure I can scrape you up one of the pre-production Defenders. The only problem I may run into is explaining to the Emperor why one of the Defenders is in the hands of an uncertified pilot. I've already got orders that only pilots who have flown twenty combat missions in an Interceptor may be trained in piloting a Defender."

This drew a frown from Lelouch, not in the fact of the qualifications, but in the face of it was likely he was going to have to request a boon from Palpatine in order to ensure Suzaku had a Defender, "Raith, I'll worry about the Emperor, and if it will allow you to rest easy, ten years ago, Suzaku was piloting a craft faster and more agile than the Defender. I can't say anything more, but believe me, Suzaku won't have any problem with it once he has a few hours logged in a simulator."

"Alright," Sienar responded after a moment of his eyes gleaming at that little tidbit of knowledge that Lelouch had shared, obviously wanting more, "I'll get the necessary paperwork done for Kururugi. I'm not going to ship it, so you're probably going to have to send-"

"I'll have Kururugi and the _Insufferable_ pick it up in three days. All I need is enough equipment and spare parts to keep it operational for a few months."

"Very well. I'll have the orders sent, but I want Palpatine to confirm it before I hand it off."

"You'll have it by tomorrow," Lelouch deemed, letting the head of Sienar Fleet Systems get distracted by something out of his line of sight, and Lelouch's gaze drifted to Suzaku who was looking like he was having the best time he could with Fel and Natasi who had joined them a few minutes before. Then his eyes fell to another figure who was watching him. Nodding his head towards the man, he grabbed a drink off an astromech and followed after him, crowds parting for both him and the other.

Soon enough, they were in a place that was private enough for a conversation for two that was relatively safe from private eyes.

It was then the the other figure turned, holding up a leatherbound book, his red eyes gleaming in the light.

"While I thank you for the book, I do hope you weren't attempting to draw any parallels," Vice Admiral Mitt'raw'nuruodo declared, holding the book out for Lelouch to take.

Lelouch snorted, taking the book, "Hardly. I viewed Moby Dick as a cautionary tale about letting your obsessions control you, lest you wish to invite your downfall."

"A basic analysis," the blue-skinned Chiss agreed, "though you ignore Ishmael's role."

"I'm a rather simple man," was the answer with a shrug, "in my estimation, there comes a time in which the limits of knowledge element presented by Ishmael and trying to understand something ceases to be beneficial and simply should be dealt with expeditiously. Ishmael's incessant need to understand the nature of the whale and not recognizing that the whale was an aberration took away from the core of the story, at least in my opinion. I've been told that I'm dismissing a good part of the story, but I just found it as too unrealistic."

"So you've never met your white whale?"

"As Ahab or Ishmael?"

"Both."

With a slight turn of his head, Lelouch broke eye contact with Thrawn, eyes adopting a faraway look, lost in his own memories in lieu of the question. For a time that seemed interminable to Lelouch, he maintained his silence, and Thrawn retained his own silence, instead choosing to watch the the Grand Admiral.

Finally, Lelouch returned from his thoughts, coming back to meet with Thrawn's calculating gaze, and for a moment, Thrawn could see deeper into the soul of the man who he had formed a kinship with than it was likely that Lamperouge was aware he was showing.

Hesitating, Lelouch reached into the satchel he always kept on his person, he retrieved not one, but a pair of books. While the first book was intended to be exchanged with Thrawn here and now, he felt that maybe, it would be best to share this private part of himself in a way that the Chiss could understand far more than the little glimpses he had provided over the years.

"I never had the personal pleasure to slay my white whale," he finally spoke, calmly, though there was a simmering tension in his tone, "it wasn't something you could put into words like Melville tried. My whale was neither good or evil, nor was it something you could logically define in a way to understand, it merely was."

"You make it sound as if your white whale is still alive?"

"It's hard to slay yourself," Lelouch admitted after a small, tense, silence, before holding out the two books, Thrawn taking them from Lelouch's had and looking them over, curiosity in his expression.

"You only usually give me one book," he observed.

"I know, and I had intended to only give you _Don Quixote._ But," Lelouch hesitated, looking for the right wording, "I think you will find this book more intriguing in regards to your question."

Noting the worn look of the book, indicative that it had been read repeatedly, Thrawn turned the book over, red eyes narrowing at the title, " _The Count of Monte Christo_?"

"There was a philosopher from my home, Nietzsche, who wrote, 'He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you.'."

"I take it that you gazed into the abyss."

"I'm not sure if I ever truly stopped," Lelouch replied softly, averting his gaze, a flicker of shame the only tell he gave, "I never was a hero, Admiral, never once in my life, no matter what  _she_  told me. I was merely the monster slaying a larger monster. At the end of it all, I killed forty-three million, eight hundred and sixty-seven thousand, men, women, and children, without hesitation in order to to be the hero my people needed, but never wanted. Some may call it pragmatism, but to me, no amount of lives saved for a good cause will wash the blood of those people from my hands."

What was left unsaid, but well understood between the two, was whether the blood being shed now for 'order and peace' was worthwhile expenditure in the long run with the threat on the horizon that they were both aware of.

"It is regretful that I never had the pleasure to meet your lover, she must have been a fascinating individual."

"She was," Lelouch offered softly, his mouth opening to say more, but snapped shut as Lelouch was interrupted by a sound that made him stiffen.

Imagine, for a moment, death. What does it sound like? To most, the answer might be quiet. The chill of the hospital bed; the hush of the funeral. To others, perhaps the whine of a blaster carbine, the thundercracks of artillery, or the tinkling shatter of a transparisteel viewport.

To the unfortunate few, however, it sounds like life.

The dull clunk of footsteps. The harsh, ineluctable rhythm of breathing, choking the silence. In and out. In and out. A voice—just the wrong side of artificial—as deep and dark as the mask it comes from. A monster almost seven feet tall masquerading as a man.

"Grand Admiral," Darth Vader said, drawing Lelouch's attention the same way a black hole would, "the Emperor is expecting you."


	3. Den of the Devil

 

To walk with Darth Vader was akin to walking to your execution. It wasn't just the knowledge of what Vader did to those who displeased him, or who simply were in the wrong place at the wrong time. No, as, for lack of better descriptor, the Imperial incarnation for death, Darth Vader also carried an oppressive aura that made your skin crawl and and left you feeling as if someone had walked over your grave.

Yet, none of that truly was foremost in the mind for Lelouch. To him, Darth Vader wasn't this terrifying figure who elicited fear simply through his mere presence. Far from it, what the Dark Lord of the Sith was responsible for was something more personal.

He was the man directly responsible for robbing him of his heart.

Even now, he could still remember the sheer terror that had rippled through the bridge of the captured _Victory_ Star Destroyer at the sight of so many _Imperial_ Star Destroyers coming out of hyperspace by the moon. The mind-numbing realization, as the _Damocles_ was consumed in a deluge of turbolaser fire, that there was no miracle to be ripped from the jaws of defeat anymore.

Even now, he could remember the desperate cries of the men and women who had trusted him, without knowing who he really was, get brushed aside like chaff in the wind. The smell of burnt electronics as ion cannons had ravaged his ship, leaving it dead in space. And the sound of death as it calmly strode onto the bridge as he had stared listlessly into the space where _she_ had died.

"Your thoughts betray you, Grand Admiral," the sonorous bass of Vader's voice flooded his thoughts, dragging him back to reality, and the vision of Vader having stopped ahead of him.

"I find it difficult to call reality betrayal, Lord Vader," Lelouch replied tersely, knowing perfectly well that the only way to deal with Vader was to simply not bother playing any sort of games with the man.

With that statement, Vader whirled around, and Lelouch could feel a hand coming to rest upon his windpipe, but instead of cowing to the unsaid threat, Lelouch merely forged upon.

"And the reality is, Lord Vader, that the blood of my betrothed is on your hands. So my thoughts are only understandable in face of said _truth_. In fact, I would argue that they are rather pedestrian in comparison to some of my counterparts."

For a moment, the only thing that was heard was the mechanical breathing of Darth Vader's respirator, Lelouch able to see his reflection in the black lenses of the death's head mask that Vader wore. The next moment, the grip on his windpipe tightened to the point it cut off air. However, instead of panic and clawing at his throat, Lelouch merely stared down the Dark Lord of the Sith, refusing to avert his gaze or show weakness in the face of the man he despised.

It was that look that he held even as his vision began to blur, that finally the grip released, and Lelouch staggered only slightly as the animalistic impulses that demanded that there be air in his lungs were fulfilled.

"You are not indispensable, Grand Admiral," Vader stated more than warned.

"None of us are," Lelouch shot back, "sooner or later, Palpatine will grow bored and toss us away like refuse for the next thing that takes his fancy. Like your son."

This time, the grip was back with a vengeance like a fist had decided to crush his windpipe completely , and for a moment, in panicked thought, Lelouch wondered if he went too far in letting his hatred for this man guide him, but found that he honestly did not care. If this was how he was to go, so be it, he would be reunited with Kallen once again in C's World. So, as he was choking, fighting for breath, he merely offered a rendition of a smile while baring his teeth, the sound becoming strangled even further as he felt his feet lift off the ground.

This time, he didn't catch himself as Vader let go, Lelouch sprawling on the floor, gasping for breath even as he massaged his throat, Vader now looking down to him.

"How do you know," the Dark Lord of the Sith demanded, Lelouch's skin crawling at the soft tone that was something you never expected the right-hand man of the Emperor.

"Know thy self, know thy enemy. A thousand battles, a thousand victories," Lelouch croaked, continuing to massage his throat, "just like I know Xizor wants you to suffer for killing his family on Falleen when you had it orbitally bombarded. What better way than through your son?"

The silence coming from Vader was enough to allow Lelouch the time to slowly get back to his feet. After adjusting his uniform in order to appear that what just happened didn't, he awaited for the verdict from the Dark Lord of the Sith.

While he did despise Vader, he was loath to impose that same sentiment upon others simply because. In his opinion, the sins of the father should never fall to the son. And pointing Vader towards Xizor was merely a means of getting back at the slippery Falleen for his betrayal without the bastard suspecting his involvement.

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

It was an extremely rare occasion in which one would be spared from the wrath of Lord Vader, more often than not, it took the intervention of someone else in order to stay his hand.

However, it was not the order from the Emperor that nothing untoward was to happen to the Grand Admiral that kept him from crushing his windpipe. Vader had in the past ignored such a diktat and had accepted the consequences. Even in lieu of his failure in capturing his son and the resultant loss of face, killing the Grand Admiral would have likely not amounted to much more than a few minutes of torture. And if the rumors were to be believed, the Emperor would likely have made a clone of him like he had of Lemelisk.

Why the Grand Admiral was one of the Emperor's favorite toys would forever be beyond him.

No, the reason Vader had not carried through was because, watching as Lelouch vi Britannia stared him down as he was strangled, was the emergence of a feeling he seldom had anymore: a modicum of respect.

What was before him, staring him down in silent challenge was a far cry from the broken teenager that had greeted him on the bridge of the _Audacious_. He was still broken, yes, but there was a strength in him that refused to truly _break_.

In many ways, irritatingly, he was looking in the mirror at his younger self in some ways, and himself as he was now. They were both slaves to an abusive master who treated as nothing more than attack dogs. Who owned nearly every facet of their existence.

The man standing before him was the same man who taken a backwater world's inferior tech base and destroyed or crippled four Imperial Star Destroyers and hijacked a Victory Star Destroyer.

It was honestly no surprise considering the Grand Admiral's history that the man had caused enough problems for Tarkin that it would be noticed by his master.

But then there was the planet…

He wondered. Would the Grand Admiral be so reckless if he knew the truth of the sequence of events that led to his enslavement?

For that matter, was his master truly aware that, like him, he was not as tamed as was to be believed?

This was something to think of for the future. For now, Grand Admiral Lamperouge was to be watched. Even if the man hated him, there seemed to be a level of pragmatism in him that could be advantageous, if his words were to be believed.

Still, he would have to be careful to not allow Lamperouge to relent to his aspirations for revenge.

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

Lelouch watched as Vader turned away and began walking, Lelouch taking it was merely a command to continue following and did so, continuing through the passages that avoided the crowds celebrating Empire Day. Soon enough though, they were back into the main concourse and they reached the throne room doors that were opened by the attendant crimson-garbed Royal Guards.

Striding into the massive chamber, his eyes took it in before coming to rest upon the large chair that dominated the end of the room, in front of the massive transparisteel viewpoint that looked out upon the Coruscanti skyline. In that chair, sat the very man, nay demon, who had taken from him the last good thing in his life. Even from this distance as he approached, he could both see and feel those sulfuric yellow eyes that seemed to faintly glow upon him. Meeting the gaze for a moment, his eyes flicked to the others that flanked the Emperor.

 _Ishin-Il-Raz, Octavian Grant, and Nial Declann_ , Lelouch noted with distaste at the three of the lead stool pigeons, before his eyes came upon a fourth individual that stood , dressed in a cloak that prevented him from discerning any defining features, but the niggling feeling a sixth sense he had nurtured over the years warning him that he should know who this was. After a moment, he drew his gaze before the Emperor as he came to a stop before the man as Vader walked forward and to the right hand of the Emperor. Lowering himself to a knee before the throne, Lelouch bowed his head, a position that no other Grand Admiral ever was forced into, and a reminder of who he was.

"Grand Admiral Lamperouge, how pleasant of you to finally join us. I was worried that Lord Vader would be unable to find you in the festivities."

Everyone in the room recognized the barb for what it was, considering it was well known that Lelouch generally did not attend the lavish parties and extensive celebrations, and when he did, he rarely did any socializing while there.

"My apologize, Emperor. While the party is certainly superb, I find as a combat officer, that my job unfortunately never ends. As a result, I have not had the opportunity to savor the festivities, to my dismay."

The haunting chuckle that did not belong coming from any human being assured him that Palpatine got the barb loud and clear. Considering the man enjoyed setting his officers against one another for his amusement, it seemed Lelouch's shot across the bow of Grant, Il-Raz, and Declann was all the more sweet considering both grant and Declann were accomplished commanders.

"That sharp wit of yours, Grand Admiral, does not get old," the decrepit Emperor of the New Order observed, even as the other Grand Admiral's bristled, "since you seem so keen on continuing your successes, maybe you should enlighten those of us who could learn a lesson from your diligence upon what it is that you felt should take priority over the celebration of my glorious empire."

Being put on the spot was something Lelouch took with stride, still refusing to bring his head up to look to the Emperor.

"I discussed with Raith Sienar about the amount of time until the commissioning of further _Dominus_ after the performance of the ship in the Airam Sector in pacifying it. He informed me that he should have an additional twelve ready for deployment within the next six months."

"Indeed," Palpatine declared, "your brain child exceeded even my expectations, Grand Admiral. While they will never truly replace our Star Destroyers, they are nonetheless a credit to you."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. Furthermore, I discussed the possibility of acquiring a working model of the new TIE Defender for Commander Kururugi, who has expressed an interest in piloting it. He told me that while he would provide me with one of the leftover pre-production models, he stated that I would have to acquire your approval before he chose to do so."

"As you well should," agreed the Dark Lord of the Sith, "young Kururugi has proven to be a boon in his service to the Empire, despite his unorthodoxy. I will authorize the shipment of three TIE Defenders to you, Grand Admiral, from the main production line. I expect you to find an additional pilot to provide combat data upon the Defender, with the third serving as an extra for your forces. Will that suffice?"

Lelouch blinked, surprised at what he was being offered, the more cynical side of himself screaming warning, that this should not be happening, while the more pragmatic side could not make out any discernible reason why the Emperor would be praising his successes and providing material that should be impossible to acquire.

"Of course, My Emperor," Lelouch replied after a moment, the slight hesitation telling to all involved here.

"Good. Good."

The next thing he knew, he was sprawled out on his back, confused as to why he was looking to the ceiling of the throne room. That was the first thing. The second was that his entire body seemed to be on fire, every nerve screaming, and he could taste blood in his mouth. But there was no explanation that his addled mind could discern as to why he was like this.

It was only when his nose processed the scent of ozone in the air did he firmly comprehend what had just happened to him. That he had been on the receiving end of the Emperor's Sith Lightning.

"Get up, Grand Admiral," came the harsh snap of the Emperor's voice, the command evident in the older man's tone.

With a groan that he could not hold back because every part of him suddenly ached, Lelouch slowly rolled over, propping himself up on his arm in order at least give him a point to push himself up. That achieved, he slowly pushed himself up to his feet, every muscle in his body protesting the action and only wanting to be left alone, but he knew if he didn't do was commanded, it would only earn another attack, something that even in his oft-times suicidal thinking found unwilling to be a target of.

It was on shaky legs, he rose back to his height, meeting the furious gaze of the Emperor who had not moved from his chair.

"I find myself disappointed in you, Grand Admiral. I would have thought that you would be happy with your position as one of my most elite commanders, freed of such a boring and miserable existence upon your backwater homeworld. So imagine my displeasure to be informed that you have been attempting to go behind my back to check up on your homeworld without coming to me."

"I-," Lelouch halted, nerves firing and he almost bit into his tongue, "I have not heard from my home in nine years, My Emperor. I," he clenched his teeth as his eyes closed, body shaking again, "only wished to know how it was doing."

"You should have only asked me, Grand Admiral. Not insult me by turning to thugs and criminals who you cannot possibly trust."

"I wished for a means to talk with my half-sister, Your Majesty," Lelouch grit painfully, "that did not require me to impose upon you for such a request."

It was a flimsy excuse, and everyone knew it, but the message had been made clear for Lelouch, there would be no opportunity to contact Earth, likely ever. Either Palpatine had already broken their agreement, which was highly likely, or Palpatine was simply enjoying his lack of knowledge as to the status of his home. Furthermore, it was also a statement to the other three that his status, while he had been successful for so long, it still did not change his status as the 'dog' of the Grand Admirals, and furthermore created another weakness for the others to take advantage of.

"Consider your disobedience an imposition, Grand Admiral."

"Of course," Lelouch forced out, vision still swimming somewhat, "I will endeavor myself to refrain from doing so in the future."

"Good, now to the other reason you are here, Grand Admiral. I have a new mission for you. You are to go to the Parmel Sector and assist my Secret Order in the investigation into Vice Admiral Harkov's possible treason."

Lelouch grimaced from the pain, but also the knowledge of who he was likely to soon be hunting. While Jhen Harkov was not what you expected of an Imperial officer, manic-looking and generally sleep deprived, backed up with sometimes erratic behavior, the man was a capable officer who knew how to play his enemies against them. Furthermore, he was adaptive and could be cunning when necessary, having quickly expanded his fleet in lieu of Lelouch's successes with older ships over the years. What had been a mere fleet that was designed to act as a vanguard was now a complete and more well-rounded fleet that could cause trouble against an unprepared foe.

While Harkov was cunning, it was a cunning that could be made to be predictable in the right situation, as the man believed he was the smartest in the room. As a result, the man was beatable with the right application of tactics, though the man would not fall for the usual set of traps that were effective against the Rebels.

"As you wish," Lelouch bowed his head.

"You will rendezvous with the Modified Frigate _Osprey_ for further orders with your ship only for the time being. I will not accept Harkov becoming aware of our suspicions, Grand Admiral."

Which meant that one of his fellow attending Grand Admirals were likely to tip off the Vice Admiral to his presence. So if the Admiral was intending to betray the Empire, it was likely he would have forces in place to mitigate his intervention, if not destroy him outright.

If he was in an _Imperial_ Star Destroyer, he would be worried. With a _Dominus_ …it would likely be a different story. He would have to ensure that he shifted his fighter corps around to ensure that his best were deployed upon the _Ineluctable_ and Suzaku received his TIE Defenders.

"And if the Admiral is guilty of treason," he asked, seeking clarification, and to know if he had any leeway in how he operated.

"If Harkov is guilty, then you will be tasked to assist Lord Vader in hunting down all of the Admiral's forces and prevent them from escaping to the Rebellion."

"Of course."

"As you are not a part of the Secret Order, Grand Admiral Lamperouge, you will be joined by another who will act both as a liaison for you, but also to add my own personal touch to your mission."

With that statement, his head turning to the figure to his left, "You may reveal yourself, my Hand."

With that, the robed figure reached up with gloved hands and pulled down the hood that had prevented Lelouch from recognizing him. But when the move was complete, Lelouch staggered drunkenly, eyes widening at who stood before him.

 _No,_ he wanted to cry both in joy and despair, as emotions that he had believed simply dead were suddenly revived, and others that were pent up broke to the surface, even as he fought to prevent any further expression, but failed miserably.

"K-Kallen," the deathly quiet whisper escaped his lips without even realizing it, not that he had the consciousness to care, as he simply could not draw himself away from a face that haunted his dreams, aged now almost a decade, but still the unmistakeable features of his beloved, of the woman who he gave his soul to.

"Grand Admiral Lamperouge," the Emperor's voice summoned what fragmented attention he had left back to the man who had so much more power than Lelouch could have possible imagined. Lelouch knew immediately that he was not mistaken, as the sulfuric eyes of the Emperor were alight with the delight of a man who knew just how much suffering he was raining down upon him, the man's rotted yellow teeth bared in a smile that could only be acceptable as the face of death, "allow me to introduce to you Kyrene Roux, my Hand."

And with that one, innocuous statement of introduction, the seed of rebellion was planted.


	4. Réveille

As the turbolift began its ascent towards its destination, Commander Suzaku Kururugi could not keep himself from scowling at his predicament, having been taken away from more pleasant distractions that had concluded the festivities last night. Distractions that ended up going back to Natasi's apartment and spending most of the night 'catching up' with one another.

Ten years ago, his younger self would have been aghast at his viewpoints upon sex and relationships. The idea that he would sleep with another woman while not even being in a relationship would have been an abhorrence. Even his relationship with Cecile had never amounted to nothing more than a few awkward instances of fumbling around that was more embarrassing than attractive.

No, it had been in looking for distractions from the fact that he was a stranger in an even stranger galaxy fighting for an Emperor that made him look back upon the days of serving Charles zi Britannia nostalgically, that he discovered the pleasures of flesh. For a few years, a port of call for Suzaku was a way of escape for him, he had delved into personal gratification in order to distract himself from reality.

He had met Natasi Daala almost two years after being conscripted into the Imperial Navy. It had been after a simulated battle in which Lelouch's forces had taken hers to task, his older ships outmanuevering and defeating her superior force handily. She had been irate, accusing Lelouch of violating the terms of the simulated battle, to which Lelouch had merely raised an eyebrow and asked her if the Rebels had agreed to any rules with the Empire for conduct in a war.

He had to keep himself from chuckling in spite of the situation, watching the redhead's look turn murderous at how a lowly Captain had defeated her the final time by simulating a ram by a group Corellian CR90 Corvette into her flagship and two of her other Star Destroyers, destroying them all and leaving her battle group easy to mop up.

Over the next two years, they had skirmished back and forth, obviously Daala demanding that Tarkin schedule the skirmishes out of her own pride. And during that time, she had also turned her fury towards him for his 'insane' piloting in what should be a 'military training' simulation. That had been a point of pride for himself, so much so, that as he gained notoriety, he had merely chosen to needle her himself.

Then had come Despayre.

Lelouch had been one of the few lower-ranked officers at the time to be aware of the Death Star, simply through the luck (or rather lack of luck) the Empire had in encountering Earth. If Earth's situation and population had been different, it would have been likely that the entire planet would have been enslaved and put to finishing the work of the gigantic battle station. As a result, Lelouch would show up at Despayre from time to time, acting as an escort for ships providing supplies for the Death Star. Suzaku did wonder at the point of it, but he had a suspicion it was because Lelouch did it out of belief that Palpatine was still going to go through with what Tarkin had intended in the first place. Well, that and maybe to thumb his nose at Tarkin in a way that Tarkin could only understand.

Only this time, Lelouch was there at Tarkin's request as part of a military exercise, his forces serving as an aggressor squadron simulating a rebel force attacking the Death Star. By that time, Lelouch had already gained a reputation in four years as one of the foremost minds in understanding and combatting the burgeoning rebel menace. As a result, in order to improve the defensive effectiveness of the moon-sized battlestation, he had been cut orders to simulate several attacks upon the Death Star, looking to identify any deficiencies that may be exploited by the rebels.

The identified issues would later become prophetic, as Lelouch identified hundreds of weak points in the Death Star that an enemy could take advantage of were discarded at the end of the exercises by Tarkin. A darker side to himself would find delicious delight when one of those weaknesses would be the source of Tarkin's downfall.

But it had been just as the exercises were finishing up that the rebels had appeared with one of their flagships, the _Fortressa_ , and launched a starfighter assault upon the Death Star. Suzaku had been in flight when the ship had appeared disgorging its X-Wings in a cloud of death, worried that his men were about to be slaughtered with their dummy torpedoes and lasers set to the lowest power level of simulation purposes.

In fact, it was a miracle that that wasn't what happened. Instead, the X-Wings seemed keen on a dash straight for the Death Star and Suzaku took that time to rally his fellow pilots and set up a picket line to protect the retreating Star Destroyers that were clearing the area for the Death Star to use its superlaser against the Lucrehulk.

It had been there, while defending the _Gorgon_ as it had gained the attention of a squadron of X-Wings, that had firmly entrenched himself in Natasi's orbit. Then again, single-handedly destroying five X-Wings with dummy missiles, and ramming a sixth to prevent it from entering into an attack run upon the _Gorgon_ as its bridge deflector shield had been knocked out was not something you would deem normal. Yet it had been upon the _Gorgon_ he had been retrieved after going EVA after suicide ramming the X-Wing, and was brought before the Admiral.

From there, and the subsequent death of Tarkin, that they had engaged in a whirlwind on-again, off-again, relationship that usually ended with him being yelled at for some supposed mistake he had made, before ending up in mind-blowing sex of the type that left marks all over his body and a stupid grin on his face. Nope, there were no brakes on the Daala train, it was hard, fast, and a bit insane all the time.

And he would have it no other way.

Natasi, in many ways, was both the measured chaos and order that he honestly needed in his life. His first crush had been a one-sided affair, he had been fixated by what Euphemia represented, instead of the person. Cecile, while a stabilizing influence, was too timid in other things that he craved. Natasi, she was raw, all-consuming fire, and chilling, implacable ice, tempering his flaws, and moderating his excesses.

Then there was the fact that they both had lived in the shadow another, dependent upon their patronage in order to thrive and survive. For him, it had been Euphemia, then Lelouch, and for her, it was Wilhuff Tarkin.

No, despite the turbulence of their relationship, he was satisfied with what he had. It wasn't perfect, but then again, over the years, he had come to the conclusion that there was no such thing as perfection, and if there was, then it would be boring. After all, where was the excitement.

So, it was just laying in her bed, the both of them satiated from another bout of their usually intense lovemaking that had finally ended an hour ago, that he had received a call from Captain Yonka, informing him that he was attempting to confirm orders from Imperial High Command with Lelouch, only that he was unable to reach him via comlink. While it was worrisome, it wasn't much to cause alarm, at least until Captain Yonka contacted Lelouch's personal guard and asked for them to alert him, only to find that Lelouch had locked the doors, which prevented any entry except his.

As the turbolift finished its ascent, Suzaku had to fight the scowl that fought to make itself apparent at the inconvenience Lelouch had forced upon him. It wasn't very often that he had the opportunity to see Natasi since they were both military, so every moment was treasured and irreplaceable. So to have Lelouch do this to him, well, he was not pleased in the least. Any other time would have been fine, but not when he was spending time with Natasi.

The worried looks from the pair of guards stationed at his door let him know that he had failed to keep his displeasure from being evident to others. Discarding that observation, he walked to the door, and simply entered the password that was only shared between the two of them, a reminder of the happier days when they weren't burdened with the true ugliness of the world, and the date they had discarded their hatred for one another.

The doors slid open, and Suzaku could only see darkness, his scowl lightening into a frown, as Lelouch hated the darkness, his experiences under the tender mercies of the Eunuchs had beaten in a fear of it. Stepping in, the doors slid shut behind him, enveloping him into that same darkness. After taking a few moments to let his eyes adjust to the dark, he strode forward, depending upon his limited eyesight and memory of the place to take a direct path into the lounge area.

At his arrival, he reached up to turn on the lights, when a hoarse voice interrupted his actions.

"Don't."

Immediately, Suzaku's looked to where Lelouch's voice had come from, to be awarded with light from a lamp, illuminating the room, but still bathing parts of it in shadow.

There was Lelouch, his uniform rumpled and unkempt, his hair a mess, and eyes bloodshot. But that wasn't the only thing Suzaku witnessed.

In one hand, draped languidly over the arm of the couch, was a bottle of Whyren's Reserve, almost completely empty, but on his lap, was a small blaster.

For a moment, Suzaku couldn't move, because what he was witnessing was so foreign of a development that his mind was having trouble grasping exactly what it meant. Never, in all of the years that he had known Lelouch, had Lelouch ever contemplated suicide so blatantly. Because that was what it was, Lelouch despised having a blaster upon his person, and with his guard, there was no reason to be brandishing a weapon.

"It's interesting," Lelouch began, his statement, a growled slur, obviously still intoxicated, the tension ratcheting as Suzaku already trying to figure a means to defuse the situation, "just when you've convinced yourself that you've finally reached the bottom…"

"Lelouch," Suzaku brought up a hand, slowly moving towards the ravenette, even as his eyes kept going between the blaster and his friend who still seemed to remain focused on something else. Already he was coiling himself to quickly close the gap between them to snatch the blaster away if need be, "put away the blaster…"

"He took her.".

Suzaku blinked uncomprehendingly, taken aback at the statement. There was only one person he could be referring to, but the way Lelouch was saying was wrong. It was almost like she was still alive, but that was impossible.

"Lelouch," he began, creeping just a bit closer, now close enough to interpose if Lelouch decided to commit the unthinkable, while trying to find the right words, "I know."

It was then that Lelouch's eyes focused, bloodshot fading away in the soft glow as Lelouch's Geass flared, a tell like any other when Lelouch's anger had exceeded even his control, and they pinned him down, before he shook, head shaking back and forth, and for a moment, Suzaku wondered if he was crying.

"Lelouch…"

But instead of tears, as he expected, Lelouch's head reared back as he laughed, and Suzaku became increasingly worried about his friend's sanity, especially considering what a relapse would likely entail.

"You know _nothing_ ," Lelouch snarled, Geass flaring in incandescent fury and Suzaku stepped back, before Lelouch slumped, energy leaving him, Geass fading into nothingness, "I knew nothing."

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

_The door closed as the the three Grand Admirals had been dismissed, leaving only Lelouch, Darth Vader, Kyrene, and the Emperor, who Lelouch could only glare at the man who took delight in his suffering._

" _You hate me," the Emperor observed mirthfully, gnarled lips curling back into a smile, "good. Hate is an excellent motivator, Grand Admiral. Even now, you scheme and plot to get out from under my yoke. Only to no avail. Not even your pitiful Geass can stand against power of the dark side"_

" _How dare you," he ground out, hands clenching and unclenching, every part of him screaming to attack this monstrosity, yet knowing how it would end if he did, "it's never been enough that you have me destroying everything I stood for, for her. But now you parade a facsimile with_ _ **her**_ _face around. Not even the dead are sacred."_

" _And why should they be, boy," Palpatine cracked, amusement in his expression, obviously enjoying talking down to an inferior like a schoolboy, "even your father observed that the strong devour the weak, and the dead are nothing but weak. Morality is nothing more the sentiments of the weak who lack the fortitude to become strong."_

_That statement hung in the air, as Lelouch lowered his head, grinding his teeth as his fingernails dug into the heels of his hand, breaking the skin, but yet not enough to draw blood. A thousand scenarios played in his head, each one calculated and rejected, even as a darker aspect, one that he tried so desperately to keep at bay, brayed to be released, to show this so-called Emperor, just what the Demon could do._

_Palpatine's chuckle made it evident he could sense the conflict warring beneath the surface, and both thoughts...no, if he was honest, both personalities, stopped, and Lelouch let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Unclenching his hands, and looking back to the Emperor._

_Chuckling darkly, he shook his head, and Palpatine's smile only grew wider, thinking he was going to get to see what he has wanted for years now._

" _You find something funny, boy?"_

" _I'm sorry, Your Highness, but I find it amusing that you would use my father as an example of strength. After all," Lelouch smirked, "it was this flawed, sentimental, and weak man, who killed him."_

_If Lelouch expected an eruption, and maybe another dosage of lightning, he was sorely mistaken, as instead of bristling by his insubordination, the Emperor simply leaned back, his expression becoming blank. No, Lelouch corrected, not blank, it was the expression he had seen before only once, the first time he had been tossed before the Emperor by Vader. It was one of cold calculation._

_It was then, his yellow eyes piercing him, and his voice, a soft whisper, yet seemed to echo throughout the chamber, that he spoke words that chilled Lelouch to the bone._

" _I wonder if your betrothed would agree with you?"_

" _My betrothed is dead." Lelouch's voice cracked. "What she would have thought doesn't matter."_

_Palpatine smiled. Lelouch knew that smile. It was the same one he'd worn the first time Lelouch bent the knee without being forced. There was nothing in it but violent, knife-edged glee._

_"No," the Emperor said, as soft as poison, "I think it does. After all, my Hands speak with my voice, Grand Admiral. Are you telling me my thoughts do not matter - especially when they come from someone so dear to your heart?"_

_"Kallen is dead!" Lelouch was shaking. "No-one and nothing can change that. Not even you and your whole fucking Force. You can't even heal Vader! And if you think I'm such a fool that I'll look at a clone or some lackey with a million credits in facial surgery and think it's her, then you might as well resign my commission for me,_ _**My Lord Emperor** _ _."_

_The blow almost broke his jaw. The only reason he didn't fall was that something held him up - and that had only made the Force strike harder, because his body hadn't even been able to roll with it._

_What made it worse was that the Emperor hadn't twitched a finger. He hadn't needed to - because he hadn't even done it._

_"How dare you speak to your Emperor that way?" It was her voice. It was_ _**her voice** _ _._

_"See, Grand Admiral?" Palpatine asked. "My Hand is ever so dutiful. She has been, ever since Lord Vader rescued her from a wreckage of some primitive machine on some backwater planet, far, far away."_

_He paused, as if thinking._

_"Actually, I can't quite remember what planet it was. I let dear Kyrene keep a memento of her world; something to remind her of her duty to the Empire's enemies. We all know your vast experience with the uncivilised slums of the galaxy, Grand Admiral - so perhaps you might be able to identify it? I'm told these things were very popular over there in the past few decades."_

_Palpatine held out a hand, and the woman who could not be Kallen Kozuki-Stadtfeld pulled out a necklace from her shirt, before offering it to him._

_He took it, and then threw it away like trash, towards Lelouch's feet._

_It bounced once, twice, and skidded to a stop directly before him._

_It looked for all the world like a single, bloodstained feather. Just the right size to fit in the palm of your hand. A single word was engraved onto the side._

_Lelouch remembered carving it there._

_The key to the Guren S.E.I.T.E.N Eight Elements—the key that never left Kallen's neck except to pilot or bathe—gleamed in the harsh lights of the throne-room. Someone had polished it recently._

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

Suzaku watched as Lelouch fingered the key in silent contemplation, his finger stroking over the engraving, 'Forever' etched in kanji.

"How do you know it's her," he spoke, trying to get a grasp of the situation. They had both seen the telemetry of the battle, Kallen had been square in the middle of the explosion as the _Intransigent_ 's reactor had lost containment, consuming everything within an eight kilometer radius. There had been no way Kallen should have survived, and when Kallen's transponder had switched to "LOST", it had been the end of their resistance, as Lelouch had simply folded.

"It's her," Lelouch replied distractedly, tapping his head, "I knew it was her the second I saw her. I've always known, it's just how we were."

Suzaku nodded. He had seen the bond the two of them had after the war. At times, he had been jealous at the closeness of the two of them, how they just seemed to complete one another, and how she had been soothing influence upon his more severe psychological issues. There was no doubt in his mind, that if she hadn't made Lelouch promise, he would likely have committed suicide before now.

Still, there was another elephant in the room, beside simply asking what they were going to do.

"Did you know-"

"That she was Force-sensitive," Lelouch shook his head, "how could we? We didn't know the hallmarks. I think we both just wrote it off as a mutation of her Geass. It's not like she did anything like that!"

"And what are you going to do, Lelouch?"

Lelouch fell silent, still not meeting Suzaku's gaze, instead looking off to who-knows-where.

"I-I don't know anymore," he finally mumbled dejectedly, just loud enough for Suzaku to hear, and not noticing Suzaku's expression darkening, "I-She-what is the point of it anymore? It's not like anything I do matters. I-"

He wasn't allowed to finish, as he was roughly pulled to his feet by Suzaku, brought to face blazing green eyes and a face contorted in fury.

"I can't believe you," he snarled, fists curling into the white uniform as he held up Lelouch, "Kallen is alive, you should be celebrating that. No matter how difficult it may be, you have a chance to get her back, and you're fucking sitting here talking about giving up?"

"Giving up? Suzaku, you don't understand, you weren't there, you didn't see what I saw. There is _no_ Kallen. She didn't even blink in my direction. She's nothing more than Palpatine's puppet."

Suzaku let him go, no, more like tossed him back into the couch, and Lelouch slumped bonelessly, dejected at the knowledge that had been made fresh once again. In his mind, there was nothing he _could_ do. Palpatine was right, he was pitiful in the face of powers he could not ever match.

Suzaku found himself disgusted with Lelouch as he stared at the man who had been his friend. The conclusion he was coming to was that there was no way he could salvage this situation with Lelouch. It seemed that the words he had spoken to him on the _Ineluctable_ hadn't made any difference.

"And so you're just going to give up on her? After everything you've said about how important she was to you, you're not even going to put up a fight. Did you ever love her?"

"What did you say," Lelouch growled, his head slowly raising up.

"I don't think you loved her," Suzaku reiterated, not caring what Lelouch and his damn sensibilities cared for. He had other problems now.

So, it was to his shock, when Lelouch lashed out, springing from the couch, surprisingly lucid for a man who had been drinking so heavily, and his fist connected with his left eye, causing him to careen backwards and trip over a table and land on the floor, head spinning.

"Don't you ever accuse me of that," Lelouch hissed, stalking forward.

At this point, Suzaku was now firmly pissed at the hypocrisy of his friend, and rolled over and slowly got to his feet, uttered a retort in return, that, in hindsight, was probably not the wisest thing to say in lieu of recent events.

"I'll accuse you only of the truth."

An inarticulate cry sounded from Lelouch as he pounced, bodily slamming Suzaku to the ground, and Suzaku feebly tried to fend off the attack in his dazed situation, only for Lelouch's fist to impact his face again, the sound of cartilage breaking like a gunshot in the room. Seeing red, he thrust his hips with all of his might, tossing Lelouch off him, before staggering drunkenly to his feet, Lelouch scrabbling to his feet. Throwing his own punch, it connected with Lelouch's cheek, causing him to carom off a barstool and into the bar counter.

"Don't have the balls to fight for your woman, but you are ready to fight me," Suzaku roared, "just like the good ol' days, huh."

"Fuck you," Lelouch snapped back, a cut in his eyebrow from hitting the bar.

This time Suzaku was ready, as Lelouch swung, ducking below the swing and driving his fist into Lelouch's stomach, his breath dying in a choke, and causing Lelouch legs to buckle, and fall forward, only to be caught Suzaku before he could hit the floor.

It was then that Lelouch began to cry, all the while struggling for breath, the only thing escaping in gasps that was discernible was the word "Why", asked repeatedly..

Recognizing that the situation had at least deescalated, and worn down himself, he leaned Lelouch up against the bar, before setting himself against the counter, trying to catch his breath while trying to staunch the blood dripping from his nose. His head thunked against the metal, causing him to wince, which only exacerbated the pain in his nose.

For awhile, the only sound that dominated room was the sound of both of their ragged breathing.

It was then that it was broken by a choked laughter, causing Suzaku to look over to Lelouch, whose head was still bowed even as he chuckled.

"What?"

Lelouch brought his head back, thumping it against the counter side as well, a sigh escaping his lips.

"A decade later and we're exchanging fisticuffs again over a woman."

Suzaku blinked uncomprehendingly for a second, before it clicked.

"Kururugi Shrine," Suzaku muttered, remembering the running gun battle between himself and Lelouch that had descended into a brutal beatdown of each of them.

"I was in a bad way then too," Lelouch laughed, shaking his head, "just wanted a few moments to remember happier days. Lo and behold, you show up doing the same, ruin it for the both of us, and we start beating the shit out of each other cuz of Euphie."

"You know I would have kicked your ass if not for Kallen."

A disagreeing snort was his reward as Lelouch chuckled, "I was too much of a mess in my head to actually give you my all. Kallen was already sinking her fangs into me back then."

"And Euphie just wanted her big brother back."

Again the two fell silent, the only light from the lamp casting shadows all around them.

"You know, if we do this, this is going to end one of two ways," Lelouch finally said, turning his head towards him.

"Yeah," Suzaku agreed, knowing exactly what those ways were. Either they were going to be wildly successful and get Kallen back, or they were going to die...and well it really didn't matter, "but when hasn't that been our way. Killing the undead seems to be our specialty."

Lelouch snorted, "I don't think Chuckles could ever have qualified as a Lich."

"Haven't seen Palpy fly yet, have you?"

"Let's not tempt Murphy, Suzaku," was the groaned response, before Lelouch slowly got to his feet, and held out a hand towards Suzaku, who took it and got to his feet, "C'mon, let's get you a bacta patch for that nose. The last thing I need is Natasi tanning my hide for ruining your overrated looks."

Lelouch then turned and began to walk away, before Suzaku grabbed his arm, turning him around.

"What are you going to do, Lelouch?"

"After I hit the 'fresher and catch some sleep," Lelouch asked, his voice trailing off, before offering a weak, crooked smirk, "I'm going to do what I do best: Plan the impossible. I mean, it's not like anyone has ever planned a coup d'etat to put down a megalomaniacal tyrant who gives bastardry a new level of low; while putting down a traitor, ensuring that his homeworld doesn't get flambeed in the process, **and** making sure he gets the girl at the same time, right?"


	5. Captain of My Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter there will be a few liberties that I will be taking with the Legends lore, but this has more to do with an operational and security aspect in mind than anything else. In Legends Canon, the TIE Defender was developed at an XQ6 Platform creatively named "Research" in the Parmel System. The problem with this is the location of the facility: Parmel System, Parmel Sector, Outer Rim [SSE of Galactic Map at the edge].
> 
> The reason I highlight this is because of the upcoming fight, according to TIE Fighter, takes place in the Parmel System, Parmel Sector, Outer Rim. You can probably gather why I'm balking.
> 
> Furthermore, the idea of new designs such as the TIE Avenger [previously Advanced] and Defender being developed and produced in the Outer Rim, an area that is a security sieve and where the Rebellion largely operates, does not rest well with me.
> 
> As a result, I've moved the development of Zaarin's projects to the Commenor System (Rachuk Sector, Colonies Region), which is ESE of Coruscant on the map, a system that has a large Imperial presence as it served as a fortress world for the Empire. So it would make a lot more sense to have the fighter developed in a secure area, though another small change is the Folor Base was abandoned shortly after the Battle of Yavin.

The last two days for Vice Admiral Jhen Harkov could only be described as both one of the highest points of his life, followed by one that did nothing to assuage his worry.

Now, the die was cast, as the knowledge that the Empire was suspicious of his treason had been confirmed: there was no other explanation as to why they would send the Emperor's Bloodhound to investigate. In fact, if not for the knowledge of what the stool pigeon was coming with, he would have killed Maarek Steele, and set to immediately disappear for a time.

However, thanks to his spies in the Imperial Center, he knew the Bloodhound was coming with his new ship, and the only support he was going to get would be a _Nebulon-B2_ Frigate. Which meant there was no need to disappear, not when he had such an opportunity to add to his fame by killing a Grand Admiral.

No, he was not going to run away, not when he had a chance to right a wrong on his way out.

While he may have benefited from the various ideas that Lamperouge had promoted, the usage of older ships to supplement fleets in the field, and recruiting from sectors of patrol, there was no love lost between the blue bloods of the Navy and him. The boy was an upstart who had spit upon tradition and convention, refusing to bow to his betters. And now the boy was a Grand Admiral, something that was simply unacceptable.

Now the hunter was going to become the hunted, he mused, as he looked over the current status of the fleet, wondering what ships he could quietly deploy to reinforce him once Lamperouge appeared. He would have preferred to have the technical specifications of Lamperouge's flagship, but it seemed that not even command knew outside of how many crew it carried, and even then, it wasn't broken down to anything that could draw any conclusions.

No, he would play it safe, and use the rebels along with it. The _Belka_ and _Swiftsure_ would be sufficient alongside his _Protector._ If the rebels were half as serious as they were with paying him, they'd probably throw in a cruiser to assist for their own gain. With that amount of capital ship and starfighter weight, there was no way that Lamperouge would survive the battle.

A small, predatory smile, crossed his face as he wrote orders. It seemed that the future was bright indeed.

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

There was always something calming about the sensation of running his hand over the metal of the machine that he would soon pilot into battle. A certain intimacy that came with the knowledge that, live or die, this was to be his instrument upon the battlefield.

Cecile had once joked that he treated his Knightmare like a mistress, an escape from a reality that he was unhappy with. In a way, she was not wrong, but she wasn't necessarily right either. It just was something one could not understand completely unless they were a combat pilot.

What a fighter, or a knightmare, were was a dance partner. No, if he were truly honest, they were a lover. It was his role to know everything about his partner in order to coax it to heights unimaginable. And it was the most exhilarating sensation, akin to sex, when he could divine everything about his fighter, and make it _dance._ It was only once he reached that nirvanic point, that it truly seemed that he was invincible upon the battlefield, racking up kills and earning the fear that warranted his presence.

So as he ran his hand over the slick surface of the quadanium steel solar panel, it was like extending a hand for a dance to his new partner.

"Commander Kuraragi, what do you think you are doing to **my** starfighter?"

Suzaku turned to face the man who had called him out, his expression shifting immediately into neutrality.

Demetrius Zaarin was, for lack of finer terms, a no-nonsense asshole with narcissistic tendencies. In a better world, the man would never have achieved his standing, but in the Empire, his skillset and personality guaranteed his success.

"It's Kururugi, Admiral," Suzaku corrected with a salute, to the narrowing of the older man's eyes, "and I was just admiring the craftsmanship, sir. My orders."

He then held out his data chit to the Admiral who took it, then handed it to one of his aides who inserted it into the reader. After a moment, the man nodded, causing Zaarin's expression to darken.

"Is there a problem, Admiral," Suzaku asked after Zaarin refused to acknowledge him for a moment, instead turning to stare at the Defender behind him.

"There is no problem, _Commander_. I just find it hard to believe that both the Emperor and Raith Sienar would approve a _bomber_ pilot to pilot any of my Defenders, especially at such a critical juncture in the project."

Suzaku had to hold back a scoff at the statement. It wasn't truly Zaarin's project, the man was simply claiming credit for others' work because he just so happened to be the head administrator for it. It reminded him too much of Tarkin, and look where that got him.

"To be fair to you, Admiral, the only reason I piloted a TIE Bomber was to prove a tactical doctrine for Admiral Lamperouge. Before I was piloting TIEs I was piloting something significantly more agile and just as well armed as this Defender."

Blue eyes narrowed, as Zaarin's lips curled into a sneer.

"And what was this...thing?"

"Classified," Suzaku said with a shake of his head, before turning to glance at the Defender, "you'll have to discuss it with the Emperor. Look, Admiral, I know you despise Admiral Lamperouge, and by extension, myself, for interfering with the Defender Project, but Batch's Phantom Project just got greenlit for full-scale production."

He knew he had hit the right note when Zaarin's expression darkened. The two men had no love for one another, where Zaarin viewed Batch as an interloper who merely was handed his success, while Batch viewed Zaarin as a short-sighted.

"I see," the man growled, eyes narrowing calculatingly as he looked to the Defender, before back to Kururugi. After a few more moments, he spun around and walked away, the aide from before handing Suzaku the data card before following after the Admiral.

"He didn't seem pleased, boss," came a voice from behind Suzaku, causing the brunette to turn, finding himself face to face with a woman dressed in the uniform denoting her status as a starfighter technician.

"Would you be if someone walked in and took your work, Lieutenant," he asked archly.

"No, sir, I would not," Lieutenant Celayl Hartyn drawled, her Lothal accent more pronounced, then shrugged, "but I doubt anyone is going to take the work of a lowly starfighter technician."

Suzaku chuckled, shaking his head, "No, I doubt they would."

Celayl and himself went back to his first days in the Empire, being assigned to him as his chief mechanic, a woman from a rebellion prone planet that personnel had simply wanted to shift to a dead-end assignment that would hopefully get her killed. Unfortunately for them, it didn't take, as Suzaku had found that the woman had a loving touch that simply made his starfighters do so much better than they were designed to do.

"So what do you want to do, boss," she asked, "according to the boys we can get it combat loaded in a half an hour or so, if you want."

"No," Suzaku responded after a moment of consideration, "let's get them loaded on the _Insufferable_ and get back to the _Ineluctable_. The sooner we're back with the Admiral, the better."

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

"And these are your quarters, Lady Roux."

"Thank you, Captain, that will be all," she replied in dismissal, not even deigning to look to the man who was the nominal commander of the _Ineluctable._ After all, Captain Yonka did not matter enough if he had to turn over his quarters to her.

"Of course, Lady Roux," the man bowed slightly, before stepping back, allowing the door to close in front of him, leaving her alone in her new quarters and giving her the opportunity to examine it for herself.

Turning back, she locked the quarters, before reaching into her pocket and retrieving a scanner designed to locate eavesdropping devices. Taking nearly ten minutes, she scanned almost every crevice of the cabin, 'fresher, and bedroom, all the while memorizing it for later review.

To her incredulity, though, she found that after scanning an additional five minutes just to make sure, that there had been no bugs placed in her quarters. It was such a unique experience, as she had been used to the politics and backstabbing in the Empire for years now, that she had merely expected the bugs as it was part of the larger game that took place, that she had wondered if Lamperouge's command wasn't simply _incompetent._

It was a thought that was quickly dismissed. The Emperor firmly briefed her that nothing with Lamperouge was to be expected. The man was known for his unconventional and idiosyncratic behavior that extended far beyond simply a form of style, having become as much a part of his fleet as him. If it wasn't for his effective service, such a thing would not have been allowed.

So, if Lamperouge did not spy upon his commanders, what _did_ he do to ensure their loyalty?

Dismissing that thought for later review, she moved to her bedroom, where a large case lay upon the bed. Taking off her right glove, she placed her thumb upon the biometric scanner, waiting for it to scan her thumbprint, before the locks disengaged with a soft click. Opening the case, she took a look inside of it, before nodding and closing it again. That done, she grabbed the case, and placed it into a corner of the room, leaving it there for later.

She then paused, again looking around her bedroom, before she sat down upon the bed, noting that the mattress gave just a bit too much to be regulation standard. Taking a deep breath as she allowed just a modicum of tension to bleed away, she slowly took off her gloves, first starting with her right hand, before hesitating a brief moment. Taking another cleansing breath and closing her eyes, she then slowly peeled off the left glove.

Opening her eyes, she found herself staring at her left hand, which, unlike her pristine right, showed scarring marring its surface, with the only intact spot being where a ring had rested. It was a reminder of her past life, before her service to the Emperor, the man who had saved her from death.

Yet it wasn't enough to save her from the scarring that marred the left side of her body. Scarring that even now she found herself oddly angered by, but could not find the source of said anger.

Staring at her hand for a few more moments, her face a mask of concentration, she then closed her eyes, and slowly exhaled, forcing air from her lungs before softly inhaling, reaching out and focusing upon her hand in her mind. Slowly, she let out her breath again, imagining her hand sliding into clear and pristine water, feeling as the chilling water seeped into the-

The sound of the chime on her door ripped her out of her thoughts, and her eyes snapped open, the sensation completely lost. She flipped her hand over, and while they were still there, it seemed as if there was a minute change, it wasn't enough for her, as she let loose a snarl as she got to her feet, placing her gloves back on and storming to the entry of her stateroom, unlocking it, and opening the door, intent on voicing her displeasure upon the unfortunate fool to have interrupted her.

She paused at the sight of Grand Admiral Lamperouge standing there.

"Lady Roux," the ravenette greeted, and she swiftly controlled her expression, "may I come in?"

 _No,_ "Of course, Grand Admiral," she said, stepping back and allowing him to step into the stateroom, his gaze going over the room for a few moments as the door slid shut behind him, before he was looking to her again.

"How are you finding your accommodations?"

"Acceptable."

"Good. Good," Lamperouge responded, and her irritation flared as she realized that even though he was doing a good job hiding it, he was nervous about something. Though, how she knew that...no, it was evident from his tone of voice, the slight hitch and hesitation. It was definitely _not_ professional in standard.

"Is there something you want, Grand Admiral," she asked, though she made it a point to add just a hint of edge to her tone to reflect her irritation.

"Hm? Ah," Lelouch reached into his pocket, and immediately she tensed, several different scenarios running through her head, before she stopped as he extricated her charm from his pocket, and held out out to her. She stared at it for a few seconds, before taking from his hand, her azure meeting his amethyst, "I apologize, Lady Roux, while I can't say exactly where it came from, which means it is likely located in the Unknown Regions. I can also tell you that it is very similar to something I once possessed."

He was probing for information, she realized, grinding her teeth in annoyance. While her Emperor felt that her origins did not matter, she disagreed. Without that knowledge, she felt incomplete, and knew that if she were aware of who she was, it would only improve her service to the Emperor. Though, she never voiced those thoughts for fear of angering him.

"Thank you, Grand Admiral. I appreciate your attempt," she replied cooly.

"It was no problem, My Lady," he hesitated for a moment, and she tensed, before he relaxed, obviously something having changed in his mind, "I will be on my way."

With that, he turned and headed back to the door, before stopping as it opened, and she had to school her features.

"Is there something else, Grand Admiral?"

For a moment, the Grand Admiral was silent, not looking back to her, for some reason she felt a hint of awkwardness both in herself, but also him, though she could not figure out why it seemed so familiar.

"Dinner will be ready at 1800 hours, would you like to join us in the flag mess; or would you rather have it sent up to you?"

Her initial response was to be no, but she held back at the last moment, instead she wished he hadn't had his back to her, as she could at least figure out his intent. It was something niggling at the back of her mind, that there was something more to all of this, but she quickly discarded it. Instead, she looked at it from an intelligence standpoint, as part of her job was to measure the loyalty of the Grand Admiral and his staff to the Empire. As much as she wanted to keep far away from the man who had dared to besmirch her Emperor.

But there was also the exchange between the Emperor that whispered in the back of her mind. The Grand Admiral had been adamant that she was someone he had known, to the point of accusing her of being a clone. It was something that the Emperor had merely brushed off, telling her that the Grand Admiral had lost his betrothed to Rebels, a woman who shared some of her features. The Grand Admiral had been obsessed with her, and the very sight of someone with a remote similarity to her had been proven to send him into a rage.

It had made sense, the galaxy was massive, and the probability of a woman sharing at least some of her features was statistically probable. Even if it was irrational, It would explain why he had reacted in such a way to the reminder. Furthermore, over the years she had seen the Emperor's acerbic treatment of his subordinates, and his treatment of Lamperouge was perfectly explainable. In a way, the Emperor was testing their loyalty by pushing them.

Still, it felt...oddly wrong.

"I will join you," she forced out, despite her misgivings.

"I will see you then, My Lady."

And with that, he walked through the door and allowed it to close behind him.

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

His conversation with Ky-Kallen, had not gone exactly as he had intended, he brooded as he strode into the elevator that would lead him to the bridge.

Then again, he hadn't known what to expect when he had decided to take a shot against the facade that was Kyrene Roux, but he had faltered when he had looked into _her_ eyes. There had been no recognition, just like before, but it was a lot more than that, before it had been in the presence of others, but now…

He let out a shuddering breath he hadn't known he had been holding, no, it was going to take a lot more than a frontal assault. Palpatine had done too well of a job for something like that. That was why he had decided to dance around saying too much, but at the same time, hiding the truth within a series of half-truths that could be suspect at a later time.

Right now, that was all he had to work with.

No, it was going to be a long battle, and it wasn't the only battle he had to focus upon. Suzaku was right, he needed to get off his ass and do something, because he was more than rusty at playing 'the game'. No, if he was perfectly honest, Imperial service had stunted him to the point he was unsure of himself, not exactly a very good mindsight to succeed with.

The doors opened, and he strode out towards the bridge, taking a look over it as he did.

Unlike standard Imperial design, Lelouch had been insistent upon improving the interaction between various crew members in order to increase efficiency. As a result, the 'crew pit' had been renovated in a way that allowed a quick interchange of positions and personnel in order to react faster to the situation. Furthermore, the displays were done in a manner that any member of the pit could see the other stations if necessary, but not only that, but they were all cross-trained in the usage of those stations if the need arose. Additionally, because of the much larger displays, commanders could see exactly what their crews could see without having to peer too closely or bring themselves down into the pit.

Yet it didn't stop there, as several holographic emitters dotted the bridge, allowing for various displays to be featured for the command staff to monitor if they so chose, and when battle was engaged, if the commander chose, an armored 'skirt' dropped over the bridge viewport, providing protection against an errant turbolaser or suicide fighter, and additional emitters portrayed the same aspect of the battlefield as if the skirt was up thanks to cameras mounted on the hull.

As of right now, however, while the ship was in hyperspace, all that was seen was the blue tunnel that denoted their travel, as Lelouch came to a stop above the pit, looking down upon the various stations with a considering eye.

A large proportion of his success over the years had been his insistence upon recruiting from the Mid and Outer Rim territories. As his fleet had grown, so had the preponderance of personnel who both could be trained and vetted by him, providing him a cadre of personnel who both had a hard work ethic as they wished to escape from the life they had, but also shared much of his vision and were loyal to him.

In fact, many of the officers he now had, outside a few transfers, had risen in the ranks under his unique form of patronage.

He had to wonder if Palpatine was truly aware of what he had instinctively nurtured over the years, or if the Sith Lord merely saw what he wanted to see. He would put credits in the latter.

"Sir, report from the _Insufferable_ ," Sair Yonka stepped up to him, holding a datapad, which Lelouch took, gazing over it contemplatively.

 _Seems Suzaku's making even better time than we expected,_ he thought to himself, _but still it will be a close thing. Our operational window was rather limited already, but managing for him to catch up will make it even smaller. It'll be a close thing._

"Send my compliments to Captain Jarston and inform him that we will rendezvous at these coordinates with Turing cipher" Lelouch stated after a moment, entering said coordinates on the pad before handing it to Yonka.

"Very well, sir. Is there anything else?"

Lelouch pursed his lips, mind wandering to Kyrene for a moment, but quickly shifting it back to the matter at hand, "I want the simulators running Scenarios D6 and E12 with Loadouts A4 and B6, respectively."

Yonka blinked, his mind immediately recalling both the scenarios and loadouts. While the loadouts were relatively similar in a focus on suppression of enemy starfighter defenses, the difference coming in how the concussion missiles were fused and the number of dedicated antishipping flights, the scenarios were more worrisome.

They predicted that they would be outnumbered by a minimum of three to one, with the latter also throwing in Rebel interference.

"Sir?"

Lelouch offered a wintry smile, knowing perfectly well the conclusions Sair was coming to.

"Jhen may think he's clever, Captain, but the man is rather two-dimensional in his thinking. He's likely aware that we are coming, and if he is guilty of treason as we suspect, he's going to try and take us out. However, he's limited by what he can shift without showing his hand, so he'll try and overwhelm us in capital ships and starfighters with the minimum of force shifts. So expect at least the _Belka_ and one of his _Victorys_ along with his flagship. Toss in some opportunistic rebels, and we have a good idea of what we shall be facing."

"Shall we inform the _Osprey_?"

That was the question, Lelouch mused, adopting the thinking pose as he bowed his head, eyes unconsciously darting left and right. On one hand, informing the _Osprey_ would be the correct thing to do, but on the other hand, doing so unsecurely would honestly be more dangerous than if they had simply omitted it. Furthermore, while he was never going to admit it aloud, he would much prefer it if the _Osprey_ was destroyed in the fighting, providing him with the flexibility he needed, and if Harkov was going to do what he expected, a Modified Frigate would be like a womp rat in a starving krayt dragon's lair.

"No," he finally said, "if the captain of the _Osprey_ is as good as I expect him to be, then they will immediately summon us and escape. A frigate has no right to be in the middle of a heavyweight brawl like this."

"Don't you think you're giving a bit too much credit?"

A chuckle escaping from Lelouch recognize the acerbic wit of his flag captain. Under his tutelage, the man had acquired a sardonic sense of humor that tended to be quite biting towards anyone not part of the fleet.

"We can only hope, Sair."

"Is there anything else, Admiral?"

"Ah yes. Inform the Chef Almark that we will be entertaining an additional guest tonight in the flag mess, I think she will appreciate her meal to be medium-rare. Other than that, carry on."

"Of course."

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

To be honest, when she had imagined the dinner she had been invited would be tried and true stuffy affair that was common upon Imperial Center, where nothing truly happened, and everyone was vapid and empty in their actions.

She was sorely mistaken as she watched with bewilderment at the din that was generated by several voices talking and discussing things all at once, as the various section heads of the _Ineluctable_ commiserate over the meal. All the while, she noted that Admiral Lamperouge was silently watching like bonegnawer over its roost, taking the time to slowly consume his meal.

It was said that you could tell a person by how they ate their food, and that was applicable to Lamperouge himself. From the way he handled the tableware, to how he cut up and ate the nerf steak, the man screamed the same aristocratic bearing of the nobility that dominated the upper echelons of Imperial society. The man was slow, deliberate, and methodical, everything measured in a silent cadence of someone who grew up being drilled in the 'proper' method of eating.

If she hadn't seen it over the years, she would have thought that it was self-taught, but no, there were too many tells in his manners to indicate that. Yet, nothing in his files suggested any sort of noble upbringing. It was just another addition to the infuriating picture that she was creating about the Grand Admiral.

Furthermore, somehow, they had done her own nerf steak precisely as she preferred without conferring with her. How, to her frustration, the chef would not say, though if the momentary lapse in the green-haired demeanor hinted that somehow it was Lamperouge again. Even the wine that had been chosen was something she found pleasing.

She honestly expected for something to happen, her senses screaming in alert, as the entire dinner felt so alien in its atmosphere, there was just too much...camaraderie that didn't seem fake now that she observed it. Yet, the Grand Admiral seemed above it all, not partaking in it, it was all confusing to her.

So when dessert was served, and the wine was exchanged for something more appropriate with the dessert, she was almost relieved that something did happen, as the Grand Admiral leaned forward, and lightly brought his pastry fork against his now replaced wine glass, lightly tapping it to draw everyone's attention.

Yet, when he spoke, it was to her surprise as to the subject matter.

"Previously, Admiral Sloane brought up the merits of the Tarkin Doctrine," Lelouch spoke, his voice firm, yet wasn't commanding, "and unfortunately we were unable to finish it. Is there anyone else that wishes to discuss it?"

There was the soft clearing of the throat from Doctor Erent, but the man simply shook his head when others looked to him.

"I see," Lelouch spoke, his eyes going over the table, and she wondered what exactly they had been talking about the doctrine, "so I won't have a devil's advocate?"

It was then his eyes came to rest upon her, his lips quirking up for a moment, before he settled back into his chair, and everyone's attention fell upon him, providing her a unique glimpse.

"I guess I should preface my input with the acknowledgement that many of you never had the opportunity to meet the Grand Moff," Lelouch began, "in fact, when you hear about him, you are provided with the romanticized image that wants to remember a man who had no faults and was the personification of an Imperial Man," that smirk appeared again, "so, I think many of you will find that my opinion of the man to be...less than ideal."

This drew a few coughs that held back laughs, while Yonka snorted, shaking his head, and the smirk on Lelouch's face grew just slightly. Meanwhile, she had to keep her shock from showing on her face, considering what a serious faux pas it was to discuss the late Grand Moff in such a dismissive manner.

"While I find myself agreeing upon the projection of power as a means to instill order to an extent, I think the Admiral is a victim of the romanticism that has morphed away the actual communique's intent. Yes, the Grand Moff did discuss it; however, he spent more time making a pointed argument for ruling through the fear of force, rather than force itself. He also continued that in order to cow thousands of worlds, a few should be made an example of, specifically highly visible worlds, that through control of the Holonet, information can be manipulated in a way to warrant such punishment. While the Grand Moff did not expound upon whether he cared if the punished were guilty as not, the intent, if you read between the lines, was that it didn't matter as long as the message was _received_."

The atmosphere had tensed, and she found herself drawn in by the intensity that the Grand Admiral was showing, in spite of her discomfort, and she almost wished to protest his observations, but the fact of the matter was, he was right in his reading of it

"Was Alderaan aiding the rebellion? No."

"What," she demanded, even as a murmur broke out amongst, her ire rising at the treason in his statement, as she began to rise, only to stop as he pinned her down in his gaze, "how can you ignore the evidence?!"

"Tell me, My Lady, how many sentients lived upon Alderaan?"

She blinked, taken aback by the question.

"Two billion," Lelouch answered, his tone quiet and solemn, "I don't disagree with the complicity of the Organas and their ilk in aiding the rebellion, the evidence is beyond damning. However, does the actions of one percent of the population merit the complete annihilation of a core world and two billion lives?"

He let that hang in the air, even as her ire tapered in the face of such a blunt question.

Doctor Erent cleared his throat, and Lelouch's head turned to him, "So then, what is your take on the doctrine, Admiral?"

Lelouch took a moment to sip from his wine, before his expression turned contemplative as he swirled the drink around in its glass very slowly, as if he was trying to hypnotize himself.

"The most dangerous creation of any society is a man who has nothing left to lose," Lelouch said, his voice soft, yet carrying the words clearly for anyone to hear it. His eyes then left the glass and focused around the table.

"On my homeworld, there existed a nation that spanned two-thirds of the world. It was a tyrannical regime that ruled through racism and fear. The usual methodology for whenever a resistance cell popped up and caused any trouble, was to conduct what they called 'urban renewal operations'. Man, woman; elderly, children; it didn't matter, they were slaughtered to the last, regardless of if they supported the terrorists or not."

He trailed off, staring off in the distance, and causing an uncomfortable silence to descend upon the room.

"What happened to it, Admiral?"

Lelouch's eyes refocused, and he took a deep apprehensive breath through his nose, before letting it out through his mouth.

"I did," he then pulled the napkin from his collar and placed it down on the table before he got to his feet, taking a moment to look over all of them, "Good evening."

And with that, he strode out of the room, leaving a silent group of department heads, as Kyrene watched, a strange feeling washing over her.

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

"Suzaku."

"Lelouch."

Suzaku stared at his his friend as he sat there on a couch, a datapad in his lap and in his left hand a steaming cup of caf.

"I see you aren't passed out over a bottle of liquor. Progress!"

The casual flip of a middle finger was the only momentary response as Lelouch's focus remained upon the slate.

"How is the Defender?"

Settling himself into a chair, he offered a shrug, "Handles like a dream, only complaints I have so far is the aft blind spot and its warhead capacity."

Lelouch snorted, "You were spoiled on the Interdictor."

"You never complained. Anyways, Celayl is fixing the blind spot and thinks she can improve the ordnance capacity given enough time. She's even toying with the idea of retrofitting additional cannons."

"The girl spoils you, Suzaku."

"Don't I know it. Luckily Natasi understands, or I'd be in a spot of trouble," Suzaku agreed with a sigh, "so what has you holed up here?"

"Have you met her?"

"Can't say that I'm keen to," Suzaku admitted after a moment, and Lelouch looking up to him, causing the brunette to shake his head, "look, Lelouch, things between Kallen and myself were always fractious at best. Too much bad blood existed between us even at the end. The last thing I need at the moment is any of that to be rekindled. I have no doubt I'll run into her sooner or later, but I'm not going to rush it if I can help it."

"I see," Lelouch responded, seeing Suzaku's point. The brunette was right, Kallen had always looked at Suzaku in a negative light, and even when the two had worked together, there had been an air of animosity that merely had been put aside in the face of a larger foe.

It also didn't help that Kallen had held Suzaku personally responsible for what had happened after he had abandoned him

"Has she been a problem?"

"No more than to be expected. Just been difficult talking to her, knowing who she is, but she is a complete stranger. Strangely though, she has been avoiding me the last few days, so take what you will from that."

It was more than that, Suzaku could sense it, but chose not to pursue it. If Lelouch was going to keep his own counsel at this juncture, then it was not his problem until it became one. Still, it was rather reassuring to see a glimpse of who Lelouch had used to be now. How long that would last though…

"I wonder," Lelouch murmured, tapping something upon the pad and his eyes narrowed.

"Wonder what?"

"Just an errant thought," Lelouch returned with quick shake of his head, "something I'll look into at a later time. I was just wondering if she had any pi-"

"Admiral."

Lelouch tensed, obviously not prepared for the interruption, before lifting his arm and speaking into the wrist communicator, "What is it, Captain?"

" _Osprey_ just signaled us, the timetable has been moved up to now."

Suzaku watched as Lelouch bit back a curse, "Battle stations. I want our starfighters kitted with Loadout B6 and ready for a hot launch. I'll be on the bridge momentarily. Inform Lady Roux that I will meet her there."

With that, he cut the link, as the lights of the ship dimmed as a klaxon sounded, an energy already crackling in the air.

"I know you just got back, but do you-"

"I'll be out there."

"Good, then your job will be to ensure that we recover the Secret Order's spy, a pilot by the name of Steele."

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

" _Osprey_ to Gamma 1, you've been set up, we're here to rescue you."

Lieutenant Maarek Steele modicum of relief at the news that was quickly tossed aside again as he veered his TIE Interceptor out of the gunsights out of the fire of the one of his pursuing TIE Avengers, his expression one of intense concentration. It had been like this for the last three minutes of him simply trying to survive as Harkov had dispatched his forces in order to eliminate him.

So to have the _Osprey_ , show up was a welcome relief even as his sensors detected it launching TIEs, for Harkov's _Protector_ to do the same in response, his stomach clenching at the sight of additional TIE Avengers and Bombers exiting the hangar.

The feeling only got worse as an MC40a exited hyperspace in the distance, and began disgorging its own fighters, with several of them being Y-Wings..

"Gamma 1, focus upon inspecting the Lambda shuttle that just launched from the _Protector_. We were prepared for this."

Stele finished off an Avenger, before quickly finding the shuttle that the _Osprey_ identified, and had just enough time to catch a Star Destroyer of a model he did not recognize suddenly appear upon the battlefield.

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

Having been on the bridge of several Star Destroyers over the years, she had acquired a unique sense on where she should, and should not be. Yet, for some reason now, she had discarded that, intent on being close to the Grand Admiral for a reason she did not understand, but her gut told her was right.

So she watched as the skirt lowered over the viewport, a part of her wondering why it wasn't standard for other star destroyers as the viewport lit up providing a pristine image of what would be seen normally.

And in the middle of it all, framed in several dozen holograms showing ship status, unit deployment, and several other feeds, was the Grand Admiral in a thinking pose, Captain Yonka beside him.

"It seems I was right in my read of him," Lelouch murmured through his hand, "the _Osprey_ is bracketed and I doubt the Commander realizes it. Signal Lancelot that they are to reinforce the _Osprey,_ Tristan is hold back, Percival's primary target is the MC40a. I think it's time to spring Harkov's little trap."

He then turned slightly, as a hologram began manifesting in its faded blue glory, revealing Vice Admiral Jhen Harkov.

"Well, if it isn't the Emperor's stool pigeon," the man sneered, earning a raised eyebrow from Lelouch, but no further comment on the insult.

"Vice Admiral Harkov, by order of the Emperor, you are to surrender immediately or be destroyed."

"You really believe your one ship can defeat all of us," came the answer from the man, before he turned his head and nodded.

Almost immediately, two more contacts appeared upon the sensors, as Lelouch watched another _Victory_ and then a _Venator_ both revert into realspace in the distance, with the _Osprey_ now completely bracketed by ships far superior than it.

"You would be surprised," Lelouch returned smartly, and for a moment, Kyrene thought he was insane. Even an _Imperial_ Star Destroyer would be hard pressed to fight these kind of odds.

"The only thing you will be doing is going to hell," Harkov snapped.

"You will find, Jhen, that 'Hell is empty, and all the demons are here.'."

 _The Tempest, Act 1, Scene 2_ , Kyrene thought to herself, before her eyes widened at the errant thought. How could she know something like that...when she'd never even heard of whatever _The Tempest_ was.

It was quickly stored away for later review, as Lelouch made a slashing motion across the throat, ending the transmission.

"Prioritize Tristan for engaging the _Belka_ 's complement, their primary objective is the bombers, Lancelot is to clear the space of Avengers and then focus their attacks upon the _Swiftsure._ Inform Suzaku he is to take his squadron and provide support to Gamma 1."

"At once, Admiral," Yonka replied, though it was mere formality, as already the orders were being sent. He then left Lelouch who seemed even more pensive than before, his expression hard, and if it wasn't for her ability to read his lips, she would have missed what he was whispering to himself almost in prayer.

However, it did not prevent a chill from creeping up her spine, as if something had been started that she had no control of, only that she had become a mere spectator in the turning point of the galaxy.

But it was even worse than that, because she _recognized_ not only what he was reciting (Invictus by William Ernest Henley), but it brought a well of unexpected emotions and images of raven locks, amethyst eyes, and a promise of **forever**.

_Out of the night that covers me,_

_Black as the pit from pole to pole,_

_I thank whatever gods may be_

_For my unconquerable soul._

_In the fell clutch of circumstance_

_I have not winced nor cried aloud._

_Under the bludgeonings of chance_

_My head is bloody, but unbowed._

_Beyond this place of wrath and tears_

_Looms but the Horror of the shade,_

_And yet the menace of the years_

_Finds and shall find me unafraid._

_It matters not how strait the gate,_

_How charged with punishments the scroll,_

_I am the master of my fate,_

_I am the captain of my soul._


	6. Emperor's Dagger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of update, but health complications have pretty much suppressed all of my writing. Still, here is an update, who knows when the next one will drop/

**Chapter 7**

**The Emperor's Dagger**

"Three minutes!"

Inside the  _Gamma-class_ ATR-6 Assault Transport, Stormtroopers went through their final preparation, rechecking their weapons and gear as the lights shifted into red, reaffirming to its occupants that combat operations were about to begin.

Through it all, Kyrene Roux went through her own preparations. Unlike the rest of the troopers, she had yet to don her own helmet, instead taking the time to check over the veritable armory decked out upon her person, ensuring that they were secured and prepared accordingly for the boarding of their target.

While it was true that she was one of the Emperor's Hands, she was quite different in comparison to her brethren. Unlike the standard procedure in that no Hand was aware of another, she was aware, and knowledgeable in all of her fellow Hands. Another was her training. While she had the basics of infiltration, subversion, and other methods that were the specialty of an Emperor's Hand, her skills and training were quite another.

Her specialty had lain in combat.

It was like a sixth sense to her, the ability to wade onto the battlefield and wreak untold havoc upon her enemies. But it hadn't stopped there, as her Emperor had discovered to his delight. While she would never be as powerful as the Emperor, or even Darth Vader (nor did she wish to be), her innate grasp of The Force had manifested in an ability to discern and use techniques simply through observing them in action.

The resultant discovery of that ability had changed her training completely. As Kyrene found herself trained not only by the Secret Order, but also by Palpatine himself. In her, he had found an alternative to Vader that could be used, when Vader was overkill for the mission.

She was also called upon when one of his Hands went rogue, as was want to be from time to time, they found their end at the hands of Kyrene Roux.

Taking one last check over her gear, she took her helmet and placed it over her head, letting it seal itself to the rest of her armor. Inside the helmet, the HUD lit up, bathing her vision in red. On the outside, a quartet of red slanted and predatory "eyes" glowed menacingly before fading.

Satisfied with the seal, and the metallic, filtered air that she was breathing, she rose to her feet, walking to the front of the assault transport and into the cockpit to watch as the pilot's guided the ponderous transport to its destination.

In the viewport, rapidly approaching was the cavernous hangar of the  _Swiftsure_ , and arrayed around them were their escort fighters, including a new TIE that she recognized as the Defender.

"MiLady," the pilot greeted, before refocusing in front of him, "Lancelot, this is Tartarus, greenlight on softening the hangar."

"Roger that, Tartarus," came the tinny voice of Lancelot, and the Defender accelerated forward, spinning around and darting up and into the hangar. From their position, she was provided with front-row seats to the Defender as it began firing into the hangar, emerald green lancing from its cannons, even as returning fire splashed against its shields.

"Tartarus, LZ is suppressed, but still hot."

"Roger that, Lancelot. Clear the LZ, we're going to introduce ourselves."

A click was the response as the Defender flew out of the hangar bay, and the assault transport lumbered forward. It was as the transport entered the hangar that it took more fire, blaster bolts splashing uselessly against the shield.

"Gunner."

"On it."

In response, several weapons began firing back with meticulous accuracy, and it was enough for her as she stepped out of the cockpit, moving to the back. Soon enough, she arrived at the back hatch, where the leader of the boarding detachment stood.

"Lady Roux," Major Aledon Casthane greeted, nodding his head, before holding up his hand to his helmet a moment, a helmet that was decided not standard issue for stormtrooper.

"Roger that," his head snapping back to focus on the rest of the compartment, "Thirty seconds! Destroyers front!"

Behind him, a quartet of Destroyer droids came to life, unfurling from their stowed position. To her, they were an oddity considering they had no point to be deployed by any unit of the Empire. Yet, under Lamperouge, they had become an integral part of his forces, especially in boarding actions as their weaknesses from the Clone Wars had been removed.

"Lady Roux, if you would," the Major asked, causing her to refocus upon him, trying to ascertain what he meant.

Only it was quickly discerned as she shook her head. In any other situation, she would be angered, but these men and women did not know her.

"No, Major, I will not be coddled by you and your men," she retorted sternly, her hand wrapping tighter around the familiar comfort on the cylinder in her right hand, "I will be leading the way to the bridge, your job will be to keep up."

The man looked to argue for a moment, before nodding, looking back to the rest of the men behind her, holding his hand up and twirling the index finger in a circle.

On that signal, the floor slid open even as ramp dropped. Almost immediately blaster bolts darted towards them as they disbursed , only to be absorbed by the Destroyer droids shields, their heavy repeating blasters barking their response. One of the droids fired an underslung concussion rifle to add to the cacophany.

Her own response came in the activation stub being caressed, a red beam of coherent plasma erupting out of the cylinder in an unmistakable  _snap-hiss_  of an activating lightsaber.

"Go. GO!"

Without any further preamble, thrusted ignited from the Destroyer Droids as they launched away from the ramp, continuing their fusillade of suppressive fire that joined the transports.

It was as the second duet took off, that she erupted into movement, using the Force to enhance her muscles as she lept, somersaulting in the air as she took in targets beneath her. A quick parry of an offending blaster bolt sent away, she acted.

The three stormtroopers that had hunkered down behind cover had only enough time to realize the impending threat before they found themselves a blade piercing through their plasteel armor into the head or chest. The hilt of the offending weapons the only sign of their passing even as she landed. Two more stormtroopers realized the threat, but she was already moving, bisecting in half one, while a loud crunch was heard through the stormtroopers microphone, followed by a gurgle as her fist had closed.

Even as she moved, the knives that had been impaled upon her other victims hurtled back towards her, intercepting stray blaster bolts that her lightsaber didn't. When they weren't intercepting blaster bolts, they followed after her as her lightsaber did the dirty work, a blur of action that was as mesmerizing as it was deadly.

And while this was going on, she paid half a mind to the boarding party, noting their actions. It seemed the rumors that Lamperouge had invested in personal shielding technology for his commandos was true, and even then, it was with belated notice, that she realized that the armor they wore wasn't darker for color scheme reasons. As the shield on one of the troops fell, a pair of blaster bolts impacted, and where a normal stormtrooper would be dead, cored by the bolt of plasma, the deadly energy splashed angrily against the armor, the armor lightening in response to the heat, but then fading as the trooper got into cover and it cooled.

There were only two armors in the galaxy that could do what it just did: beskar and phrik. And she damn well knew it couldn't be beskar. How Lamperouge got his hands on phrik though, was something that would need investigation.

Yet, that was for the future, as the blasterfire began to quickly die down. Between the Destroyer Droids, herself, the assault shuttle, and the ruthless efficiency of the boarding party, the defenders were simply overwhelmed and pushed out of the hangar bay. All around them was the evidence of the battle, as the defenders were left where they had fallen.

Satisfied that there were no more threats, her beskar knives slid back into their sheathes on her person, even as she kept her lightsaber activated.

She knew what was next, as the first assault transport left the hangar, another replacing it and disgorging their troops. It was now a race against time now that a beachhead was established, the defenders only had a few choices.

"Major, take your entire team to engineering."

"Ma'am, our orders-"

"I'm countermanding them. We don't have the time to split our forces to take the bridge and engineering without risking them scuttling the ship. I'm ordering you to take your element and proceed immediately to engineering and secure it."

"And what about yourself, Milady?"

"I work better on my own, Major," she responded, "alert the second team to proceed towards the bridge once they have finished deploying."

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

_Damn Harkov,_ Commander Marceli Yu swore, bathed in the emergency lighting of the  _Swiftsure_ 's bridge.  _Damn him to the Corellian Hells._

It had supposed to have been a simple defection, one that would get them all rich quickly. They would meet with the rebels in the Parmel Sector, finalize the deal, and then begin attacks upon the Empire, and making an emperor's ransom of it.

But kriffing Jhen Harkov wanted to make a theatre of it all. No, the man couldn't simply defect, he had to make a statement by killing the Emperor's Hound. Something that no commander, Rebel or otherwise, had ever gotten close on.

No, unlike Harkov, he rightly feared Lamperouge, knowing perfectly well just what the man was capable of. You didn't go from a lowly Commander to a Grand Admiral in the less than eight years by fluke. Lamperouge was a different beast to the rank and file Imperial officer, and it was evident in that he refused to be held to any expected tactical or strategic standard.

So, while Harkov had been confident that his trap would destroy Lamperouge, he had his own misgivings. In the end, it was to no surprise that Lamperouge was not only prepared for them, but had developed tactics and weapons to fight the Empire. It was the difference between a Grand Admiral and a Vice Admiral like Harkov.

"How long until we have power," he demanded, refusing to take his gaze from the looming arrowhead shape of Lamperouge's new flagship in the distance, along with the debris of the  _Belka_ floating amidst them. He knew that the only reason Lamperouge hadn't rendered unto them the same fate was that he needed prisoners.

"Lieutenant Gillode reports that main power will be restored in ten minutes, sir," came the report from one of the technicians, "after that, he believes he can have the hyperdrive ready for a microjump two minutes after that."

"Tell him he has ten minutes total. What's the status on the boarders?"

"Sir, they've broken through containment again. Nothing we have done has been able to stop their advance. They're right now at D Block on Deck 6."

That put them too kriffing close to the engineering sector. If they lost the engineering section, then all hope for escape was lost.

"Tell Major Vanebea I don't care if he has to use heavy weapons, I want them stopped. Ventilate the damn deck if he has to, but they cannot reach engineering."

It likely wouldn't stop Lamperouge's troops, but it would at least buy them time. Once they were able to jump out to safety, then it would only be a matter of time before they could repel the boarders, and escape.

The only reason they had been unable to defeat them so far, was simply because they did not have the power to move the stormtrooper contingent in the ship fast enough. WIthout main power, all movements were in a trickle, and that gave all of the advantage to the attackers, especially with these damn destroyer droids that seemed to be immune to emp grenades.

The only thing that nagged at him was why Lamperouge's troops were only going for for the engineering sector. It made no rational sense, concentrating his forces like that to where he could bring his forces to bear on them, incredibly armor and destroyer droids or not.

It was that thought that bothered him, when suddenly all power cut out to the bridge, causing him to look around him. Before he could demand a report on what happened, however, a new squelching sound drew his attention, followed by an entirely different light filling the bridge and replacing the darkness.

He spun around, looking to the bulkhead doors that separated the bridge from the rest of the ship, something that he had ordered sealed immediately once emergency power had been restored. There, in the middle of it, the metal, a meter and a half of solid durasteel, was melting before his very eyes.

_How_ , he thought to himself, trying to figure out what was happening. Just how were there no reports of any attackers approaching the bridge. There was no way that anyone should have been able to penetrate so deeply.

Yet the proof was right in front of him, as molten durasteel sloughed onto the floor, a crimson spear of energy now evident causing his blood to run cold.

There was no mistaking what he was seeing, even as the stormtroopers he had stationed got into position to defend the bridge. No one in the galaxy who wasn't living under a rock would not recognize a lightsaber in action.

_It can't be Vader,_ he thought with a modicum of panic,  _he was last reported on Coruscant. When did Lamperouge get his hands on a Force-wielder?_

But that was a pointless discourse, as the lightsaber, after cutting a small circular hole in the door, deactivated, pitching everything back into darkness. Unconsciously, he drifted to his right, placing himself behind a alcove, even as he withdrew his service blaster and peered around the corner.

The burgeoning silence that only served to ratchet up the tension was suddenly broken by the sound of a metal impacting the deck, and he whipped himself behind the alcove, expecting an attack, only for nothing to happen. Then, as if to mock them, there was a series of electronic chirps, that caused his eyes to widen as he recognized that it could only be some sort of droid that had been tossed into the room. The stormtroopers, that were the only ones able to see, were quick to begin firing, yet it seemed that they were unable to hit whatever it was that was in there.

Yet, before he could say anything, the entire world exploded into an extremely loud bang and blinding white light, causing several men, himself included, to try to protect his eyes even as he shouted in pain at the white hot agony.

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

It was with the detonation of the duo of flash grenades after using the Force to throw them through the hole she had cut in the bridge door. Tapping her wrist gauntlet, which restored the emergency power to the bridge, the doors flew open with a second command, and she dashed into the bridge.

The only threats at the moment were the stormtroopers that were posted on the bridge, as their helmets would protect them from the grenades. Lightsaber already ignited, she carved through the first stormtrooper before he was able to train his blaster upon her. Already, with a twirl of her weapon, she batted the blaster shot from the nearest trooper right into his chest, knocking him off his feet, if not killing him outright. Retrieving one of her many knives from her person, she tossed it at a technician who had been lucky (or unlucky) to have been protected from the flash grenade. The blade sunk into his chest, causing him to drop his blaster.

Sweeping her left arm, she ripped the blaster rifle from another stormtrooper, before tossing a grenade into the crew pit. She hadn't stopped moving even as the explosive went off, as she flipped over a trio of crisscrossing blaster bolts, landing into a sweeping crouch, the unfortunate crew member not having the time to land before he was decapitated. It was just as she gathered, that she lept away, blaster bolts tracking her even as she used the Force to increase her movement.

She didn't even hesitate as she tossed her lightsaber like a javelin, spearing the last stormtrooper through the chest, before she somersaulted over him, the lightsaber flying into her hand, as she slashed through another crewman. A parried blaster bolt into another crewman, and with a wave of her hand, she used the Force to levitate her beskar blades out of their sheathes, and launched them into the remaining crew as she stalked towards Commander Marceli Yu, batting away his blaster's bolts like they were a pesky insect before using the Force to lift him off his feet, slash his blaster in half before he could shoot again, and slammed him against the transparisteel viewport, knocking him unconscious.

That done, she turned back towards the bridge entryway to await reinforcements.

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

"Unfortunately, the  _Vigilance_ will require another week in the maintenance yards, Grand Admiral," Admiral Rae Sloane stated, her holographic form standing before Lelouch as he stood on the bridge of his flagship, awaiting word of the boarding of the  _Swiftsure_ , "they have discovered a significant fault with portside turbolaser battery energy distribution network and want to go over the plasma conduits before they clear her."

"Unfortunate, but understandable, Admiral," Lelouch replied, tapping his chin, "we all knew we have been pushing the fleet quite hard the last few months, something was bound to give. I will be contacting Sienar to check on the status on the  _Indefatigable_ and  _Albion_. It may be time to transfer your flag and crew to those ships and add them to the fleet."

Even though the hologram was rather diffuse in its presentation, it was easy to tell that Sloane was taken aback. Sloane was a quintessential  _Imperial_  driver, having cut her teeth on the venerable warship, to be transferred to something new, especially ahead of the schedule that had been previously discussed, it was something she wasn't prepared for.

"That could take weeks to complete. Surely you would prefer to have the  _Vigilance_  in your order of battle during the hunt for Harkov."

"Indeed I would, Rae, however, I am thinking of the long term. The addition of both the  _Indefatigable_ and the  _Albion_  would far exceed what is offered by the  _Vigilance_. Harkov will takes weeks to ferret out, along with his Rebel friends. By that time, you should be ready with those ships. As for the order of battle," his gaze shifted to the other hologram, "Natasi, what is the status on Project Pridwen?"

"Final testing has been completed. It has performed beyond all expectations, Lelouch. I was finalizing my report to transmit to you this evening."

This was one of the differences Lelouch had always had with his peers. Whilst other Admirals could look to create the next wonder ship, fighter, or weapon, he went instead to looking at what would improve  _efficiency_. It was what drove his success, using what he knew, and what already existed, and then improving with it, than resting his laurels upon an unproven technology.

"Good. I have a feeling Pridwen will be quite effective in the face of Harkov's obsession with his Avenger's. Is your group combat ready?"

"Outside of restocking munitions and consumables, we're itching for something more than pirates, if that is what you are asking, Admiral."

"I don't know if Harkov will qualify as something better, but I expect you here within the next three days, Admiral. Lamperouge out."

With a nod, Natasi disappeared, as Lelouch looked back to Rae, "I understand that this is not what you were wanting, Admiral Sloane."

There was a shrug from the woman, "We've always pushed our ships too hard, Admiral. But it has paid off in too many successes. Sooner or later, the butcher's bill was going to come to pass. Just try and save us some, okay?"

"I'll do my best, Rae. Lamperouge, out."

With a fizzling, the woman disappeared, as Lelouch refocused his gaze back to the  _Swiftsure,_ lost in his own thoughts. It shouldn't be long now until they received news on the capture of the ship. The last report had been quite favorable.

Still, that wasn't what was gnawing away at him right now. His Paladins were the best in the Empire, in both training and equipment. Taking a Star Destroyer would not provide a challenge to them in this circumstance.

No, his thoughts revolved around  _her._

He had almost raged at Aledon for letting Kallen countermand his orders and proceed to the bridge on her own. He had not just found her, only to lose her again because of her doing something something so dangerous. Yet, he had restrained himself, despite the cost to him.

So he now stood there, trying to maintain his impassivity despite the roaring in his veins to  _do something_.

It was a familiar feeling, if he was honest with himself. He had never had the martial prowess that she had ever had. While he was certainly capable, Kallen had always been quite something else. She had been both his shield and his sword.

But she had also been his heart. His reason for becoming a better man. If it hadn't been for her, he would have burned the world to a cinder in his quest for revenge. When he had thought he had lost her…

He closed his eyes, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. He had to trust her, just like he had always done. And, to his disgust, hope that whatever Palpatine had done to her would be enough.

"New contact exiting hyperspace, designate Senth-32," came the announcement from the sensor technician, causing his eyes to open, "identified as  _Imperial I_ -class Star Destroyer  _Garrote_."

_Garrote_  was part of the Azure Hammer Command, the defense fleet in charge of the protection of Imperial Center. Why would it be out here? Unless...

"Sir. Lord Vader is requesting a report."

_Either Palpatine expected this outcome, or Vader was being sent here regardless. That is the only way to explain his arrival at this juncture. That, or he was already situated nearby. Is this Palpatine's ploy, or is it Vader's?_

With a nod of his head towards the communications to open a channel, he turned to face the holoprojector, just as Lord Vader appeared before him.

"Lord Vader," he greeted the Dark Lord of the Sith.

"Grand Admiral Lamperouge, what is your report."

"As was suspected, Vice Admiral Harkov is indeed guilty of treason against the Empire. We engaged the  _Protector, Belka,_ and  _Swiftsure,_ along with a Mon Calamari Light Cruiser. It appears that Harkov was tipped off to our presence and prepared accordingly."

"And the  _Osprey_?"

"Unfortunately, it was destroyed. There were just too many fighters for my forces to suppress. We are currently conducting search and rescue of the derelict in the hopes that there are survivors."

There was a silence, as he could almost feel Vader peering into his soul, trying to ascertain the veracity of his statement. Then the silence was broken.

"I will be transferring to your ship, Grand Admiral, to continue the hunt for Harkov and his band of traitors."

That was  _not_  what he was expecting in all of this. He had expected that he would be handing overall command over to Vader and the  _Garrotte_ , as was procedure while the Sith flew his lights on that ship. For the Dark Lord to transfer to his ship, a ship that did not have many of the luxuries that were taken for granted on an Imperial Star Destroyer, was bound to be inconveniencing.

"Of course, Lord Vader. We would be honored by your presence."

Again there was an uneasy silence between the two of them. And, for a moment, Lelouch expected for Vader to cut the transmission, as he was known to do (when he didn't do  _something else_ entirely). Instead, he was surprised by the next question.

"Where is Lady Roux?"

It took him a moment to recover from the question, unable to hide his surprise, and if he were to be honest with himself, a modicum of fear.

"She is currently on the  _Swiftsure_  assisting in its capture, My Lord."

"Very well. I expect a report from her when she returns, Grand Admiral."

And before Lelouch could respond, the link was killed, leaving Lelouch standing on the bridge, staring at the empty spot where Vader had stood. Bringin his hand up, he found himself unsurprised by the bloody furrows his fingernails had carved into his hand. It had taken all of his being to restrain himself from reacting when Vader had brought up Kallen. It was both out of fear and rage that he had reacted in such a way.

And now he would have to share a ship with a man that he quite honestly despised, all the while attempting to reach the woman he loved.

 


	7. Setting the Board

It had been just as the assault shuttle was floating into the cavernous bay that she had finally sensed  _him,_ robbing her of any sense of accomplishment for her actions on the  _Swiftsure_. Instead, it was replaced by the one emotion she despised over all others.

_Fear_.

She feared Lord Vader, as any rational being would. But she also feared him through the fact in the eight years she had served her Emperor, Vader had made it a point to instill that fear into her. Both when he was tasked in training her, but whenever she was alone in his presence too.

But it went further than that evening. Beneath that fear, was a hatred she could never explain. Yes, she hated the Dark Lord of the Sith, it was hard to not hate the hard, unyielding, and vicious man. But for the life of her, she could never explain her irrational  _hatred_  of the man, only that she despised him, and it transcended what it should be, in her estimation.

As her lift came to a stop, she took a deep, steadying breath to calm her nerves. It would not do well to show anything around Vader. Even if she was fresh off of getting back from the  _Swiftsure_ , and desperately in need of a shower.

With the doors opening, she stepped through, gaining a purposeful stride as she set herself upon her course. It would not do well to refrain from reporting in now that Vader was aware of her arrival, lest he assume she was avoiding him.

Shortly thereafter, she reached her destination, coming to a stop for a moment as the stormtroopers posted as guards stopped her. Which made sense, considering she likely struck a rather threatening image, with blood still on her and the scent of battling cloaking her frame. Using that time, she gathered herself one more time, before she stepped through the opened door and found herself in the room, facing down both Vader and Lamperouge as the Grand Admiral seemed to be explaining something

Lamperouge seemed to be the first to notice her, though she knew that to not be the truth. Vader always seemed to keep an unhealthy focus upon her whenever she was near, as if expecting some sort of treachery from her.

"Lady Roux," Lamperouge greeted, "you're just in time. There were no problems with the  _Swiftsure_?"

"None, Grand Admiral," she then took the moment to remove her helmet that seemed stifling now, catching a look pass Lamperouge's face before quickly disappearing, "Lord Vader," she then acknowledged, "the ship has been secured and Commander Yu is currently being processed for interrogation."

"Excellent. While it'll likely only be a few hours until Yu breaks and provide us everything he knows, I do have a question for you, Lady Roux. Did you happen to note anything out if the ordinary during your actions upon the Swiftsure?"

"In what way, Grand Admiral?"

"Were there fewer personnel than what you would expect for a star destroyer?"

She opened her mouth to say that she didn't notice anything like that, before she closed it again. Now that Lamperouge mentioned it, her path to the bridge had been noticeably lacking in the amount of presence that a normal star destroyer had.

"I did notice that the amount of crew I encountered was less than what it should be. But that may be because it was in the process of being boarded."

"What are you getting at, Grand Admiral," " Vader demanded, threat lacing his tone. It was not wise to test the patience of the Sith.

"My apologies, Lord Vader," he offered with a nod, "but I was trying to ascertain if a theory of mine was correct or not," with that, Lamperouge turned, and accessed the table, activating the holographic projector., with images of ships and photos materializing in air.

"When I was handed this mission, I began tracing back Harkov's actions with the assumption that he was already a traitor. Thanks to Lady Roux, and her release of reports from the Secret Order in regards to Harkov, I was able to reconstruct a workable conjecture in regards to Harkov."

"What we know is that Harkov has been dealing arms for the last three years, accruing a significant war chest for himself. Furthermore, it is more than likely that he was involved reigniting the Sepan Civil War, which had previously been a cold war between the Ripoblus and Dimok. It is my belief, that he caused it simply because he could bring in his own loyalist forces in preparation to betray the Empire."

He then manipulated the controls, bringing up several of the photographs of officers.

"Realistically, Harkov should have been able to quell the Sepans with the ships he did have. Instead, he called in two more star destroyers along with several support ships. It is worthwhile to note that all of the commanding officers have ties with Harkov."

The images then minimized, being replaced by the ships.

"However, just having the loyalty of these officers isn't enough to betray the Empire. Yet, at the same time, it is statistically impossible to have an entire ship's crew decide to turn traitor. This leads me to believe that Harkov's fleet,, are being largely being operated by critical personnel only, with the rest of the loyalist crews either marooned, or dead."

"Even with the supplies he had stockpiled, the human aspect of the equation will leave him unable to stage campaigns we can take for granted until he can supplement his crew. He will require more frequent berthings, because we don't train deep space mooring outside of the survey corps and Harkov won't dare give up any creature comforts.

With a wave of the hand, the Parmel Sector and its surroundings were superimposed as the fleet listings for Harkov's forces were relegated to the background.

"While we don't know where Harkov's stockpile is kept, it is almost certain that it is either within the Parmel Sector itself, or in an adjoining sector. He's not going to strangle his supply chain if he can help it. That is why my first priority will be the destruction of this stockpile."

This brought a noticeable chill to the room, and it took every part of her to not wilt in the face of the dark side that was rolling off Lord Vader. Yet, to her amazement, Lamperouge did not seem to be phased by that, when other Imperial officers would seek to be elsewhere.

"You seem to have forgotten your mission, Grand Admiral. Your job is to hunt down Harkov and his band of traitors."

"I have not, Lord Vader," Lamperouge retorted, the challenge in his tone, "I am merely changing our focus by taking advantage of an opportunity provided."

With another flick of his wrist, a new display was brought up, this time showing every ship in Lamperouge's fleet.

"Before your arrival, Lord Vader, I had issued a general recall of all ships in my fleet not currently undergoing maintenance or fulfilling critical missions to rendezvous here. Within two days, we will have the majority of my capital and support ships in both the Parmel and neighboring sectors."

He then looked back to Vader, amethyst meeting tinted lenses unflinchingly, "It is my intent, once this depot is destroyed, to use Harkov to identify Rebel strongholds in the AO, and destroy them if possible; or force the Rebel Alliance to cut their losses and completely abandon these sectors, and Harkov, to us."

They stood there, two juggernauts of will staring each other unflinchingly, waiting for the other to blink, and to her shock, it was Vader who stood down.

"Continue, Admiral."

"I've already tasked the 187th and 216th Assault Gunboat Wings to begin reconnaissance on the Parmel Sector itself. Once the rest of my fleet arrives, I will be adding my  _Raider_  Corvettes to this task and increasing the net, while the rest of the fleet will be divided up into hunter-killer teams tasked with destroying all rebel, pirate, and traitor infrastructure that has been identified in that time. These initial strikes are intended to rattle our enemy, force them to make mistakes while they are off-balance. Too many of Harkov's ships require older parts that are difficult to obtain, especially for his  _Victory_ 's."

"And as your successes mount, Harkov's fleet is likely to fragment," Vader mused aloud.

"They were promised riches if they were to betray the Empire, Lord Vader," Lamperouge returned with a nod, "the moment they realize that they won't get those riches will have them turn on Harkov. And with us controlling the hyperspace lanes out of Parmel, they will have no choice but to fight and die."

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

It was with a modicum of trepidation that Maarek Stele exited the cockpit of his Interceptor. Intellectually, he knew he was to report to a debriefing officer, the problem was he didn't know who, as one was back on the  _Protector_  and the other was likely dead as he was on the  _Osprey_.

So, it was to his surprise, in a hangar bay that was bustling in activity, that he found himself met by a TIE pilot. Even more surprising, the TIE pilot was not wearing his helmet, which was against protocol in a combat operation.

Still, he found himself slightly intimidated by the piercing jade-green eyes that seemed to bore into him.

"Lieutenant Steele. Colonel Suzaku Kururugi, welcome aboard the  _Ineluctable_ ," he then held out a hand, and Maarek found himself shaking it, surprised by the lack of formality, "if you'll follow me, we'll get you debriefed and berthed."

With that, he turned and led the way, leaving Maarek to only follow.

"Where are you from, Lieutenant," Kururugi asked, glancing over his shoulder as they continued.

"Kuan, sir."

"You're kidding," Suzaku commented as they came to a stop at a turbolift, the doors opening up a few moments later, and they allowed several men and women to pass by before stepping in, "the Grand Admiral had orders to quell the Taroonian Civil War, but we got sidetracked when we discovered Bel Iblis'  _Peregrine Nest_. He had to hand the duties over to Admiral Mordon."

He didn't know what to think of that, and so chose to remain silent, as the turbolift came to a stop, and Kururugi led him further ahead. They then came to a stop at a door, before Kururugi accessed the panel and the doors slid open. He was then led inside to a rather spacious office, to the left was a large display that came to life immediately, showing both ship status, but also the status of the fighter wings on board the ship.

His gaze was then drawn around the room, taking in the personal effects around the room, having to blink twice at the wall behind the desk as Kururugi placed his flight helmet on a surface and began going into a cabinet.

It was as if he were caught between two worlds. There were photos of course, but they were so diametrically opposing in their technology level it was jarring. Who would mix physical photography with holograms?

But that wasn't the worst offense to his sensibilities. No, that honor fell to the object resting on its display mantlepiece behind the desk.

The, resting on the expensively lacquered wood, was an honest-to-kriff sword...

"Caught your attention," Suzaku's voice ripped him back from his thoughts, bringing back his attention to the Colonel, who now had a bottle and two small glasses in hand, "don't worry, you're not the only one who gets distracted by it. Please," he motioned to a chair, "take a seat."

Remaining mute, he sat down in the chair, as Kururugi uncorked the bottle, before pouring a finger in each of the glass. Stoppering the bottle again, he then place it down before sliding one of the glasses across the surface.

Numbly stopping the glass, he palmed it, recognizing the toast for what it is. So he met Kururugi's gaze and upheld drink with his own.

"To the fallen," the brunette gravely intoned, "and those who survive them."

He then proceeded to drink, Maarek following suit. While he was used to these toasts, as it was a common tribute amongst TIE pilots, he was not used to how  _rich_  the alcohol felt upon his palate, causing him to nearly gag, only barely recovering in time.

But he did not, instead steadily placing the the shot glass back on the desk and meeting the contemplative gaze of Kururugi. He could feel the older man judging him, looking for any sort of displeasing facet to him.

"Onto business then," Kururugi declared, before refilling both of their glasses with a bit more of the alcohol, offering it to him, "as you have likely figured out, with the loss of the  _Osprey_ , you are being absorbed into the fighter wings of the  _Ineluctable_. Specifically, you will be assigned to Lancelot Squadron as my wingman and provided with a TIE Defender."

"Sir," he asked, unable to hide his confusion, "I don't understand."

"I've reviewed your dossier, Lieutenant Stele. You're a natural as a pilot, with the rare ability to be able to switch between starfighters and master them extraordinarily quickly. The Grand Admiral and I have not gotten to where we are by choosing the men and women around us poorly."

Kururugi then took a moment to sip from his glass, allowing Maarek to relax slightly. There was still a niggling sensation, one that he had come to trust, that there was something more to what the Colonel was doing.

And yet, whatever it was, Kururugi didn't pursue it, instead pulling another data slate off the stack on his desk and sliding it across the polished surface.

"Your berthing arrangements, Lieutenant. You've likely already figured this out, but the Grand Admiral runs his fleet significantly different to the rest of the Empire. About thirty percent of the fleet is staffed by women. Fraternization is allowed within reason, but will be met with censure if it becomes an issue. There's more details on that slate, but by and far, expect this to be an eye-opening experience. You are to report to the hangars at 0840 tomorrow for a briefing upon the TIE Defender, and to meet the support crew who will be in charge of your fighter. Until then," he was then interrupted at the door opening.

"Juno," Kururugi greeted, even as Maarek heard the door slide shut behind him, the sound of boots impacting the metal floor, as a slim figure strode by his left, allowing him to surreptitiously take in the newcomer, "what impeccable timing."

Even with the evidence in front of him, it was still somewhat of a culture clash for Maarek to find himself beside a female TIE pilot, let alone a commander. Yet, with the blond hair done up in a ponytail, and the serious expression on her face, he had a feeling that she had earned her position through her skill alone. His only reaction was to blink when the pilot grabbed Suzaku's glass and quickly downed it,

"Have you received the transfer notice," she asked after placing back the glass, her tone tense, as if she were unhappy with something.

"I have. Is it going to be a problem?"

"No. It shouldn't. I'll just need to know the hierarchy, Suzaku."

"I'll find out from Lelouch. I have an after-action briefing to present to him. But I don't foresee any complications unless Lord Vader wishes to impose. They are guests on our ship, after all. The only worry I really have is we are getting tight for space now."

She nodded, before turning to look at him.

"Oh yes, Juno Eclipse, meet Maarek Stele, he'll be my wingman for the foreseeable future. Juno has been my 2iC for what? Four years?"

"Five. Almost six. Just after the Battle of Callos."

A slight crease of the eyes was the only indication that there was something more to that statement. But it was enough for Maarek to gather that whatever the Battle of Callos was, it was a sore subject for the woman.

Whatever else was going to be said was interrupted, as Suzaku glanced to his desk, eyes narrowing in recognition of whatever it was that had caught his attention. The way his lips pursed, it was obviously something that irritated him.

"Juno, can you finish giving him a quick orientation? It seems that briefing is taking place much sooner than what I expected."

"I can do that. Come along, Lieutenant, time for an abridged tour of the  _Ineluctable._ "

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

Transferring the flag of Lord Vader was always a delicate affair. Because of the unique requirements of the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet, his meditation sphere had to be moved from ship to ship, providing an atmosphere in which Vader could rest and breathe without the assistance of his suit.

Unfortunately, unlike it's brethren  _Super_  and  _Imperial_ , the  _Dominus_  were designed as ships of war with space at a premium. So while the meditation chamber was transferred and installed, it had been with some difficulty as space had to be made on the already cramped ship. And while the meditation sphere was fitted into a space, there was no personal space for the Dark Lord of the Sith.

As a result, the flag officer's, Grand Admiral Lamperouge's, quarters were conscripted, as they provided the largest personal space upon the ship, with the Grand Admiral now berthing with Kururugi..

However, because of the rush to provide space for Lord Vader, the personalized elements of the Grand Admiral remained, from the books and furniture, to the holograms and alcohol.

In any other circumstance, the Dark Lord would have taken offense to this inefficiency, but in this instance he allowed it to slide.

The why was rather simple: Imperial Center. After the confrontation between the two of them, he had found it prudent to revisit what he knew about the Grand Admiral. To gain an understanding of just what hid behind the veneer of a man who owed absolutely no loyalty to the Empire, yet served it because of a promise made.

A man that he was becoming convinced was far from the defanged beast that Sidious believed the Grand Admiral to be.

"Lord Vader."

Leaving his thoughts behind, he focused his attention back to the another piece of the puzzle that was Lelouch Lamperouge: Kyrene Roux.

Or should he say Kallen Lamperouge.

There was no doubt in his mind that his master dangled her in front of him as a form of psychological torment. He was one of three people who knew who Kyrene Roux truly was, having been the one who had delivered the woman to his master after recovering her from her derelict craft.

It was no fault of her own as to why he despised her very existence. When he looked at her, it was a reminder of what Padme would have become if she had survived: another pawn in the sadistic game that Sidious tended to play for his personal amusement.

But it wasn't just the reminder of that, but also the fact that Sidious enjoyed reminding him of his own failures. Starkiller. Lumiya. The list went on and on, and while his failed, Sidious' would succeed.

Oh, she would never become his replacement. They both knew that. While the woman was certainly one of the most powerful Hands that his master employed, she was nothing in comparison to himself, or even his son.

What she was, however, was a finely honed blade with an instinctive grasp of the Force. It had been evident in her piloting, and had only become more apparent as time went on. Her ability to not only quickly master what she was taught, along with her ability to unconsciously comprehend a technique simply by observing it, even if it wasn't intended to be taught to her, had provided his master with a weapon that was close to perfection.

And it  _infuriated_  him that she would have such a gift. A mere girl who had no idea of what the Force even was until her backwater planet had been conquered.

"What is your report, Agent Roux?"

The woman bowed her head again, the fear and loathing radiating from her. A part of him wondered if she understood just why she hated him. It was unlikely, his master's rewriting of her memories were thorough. All that remained were ingrained subconscious echoes that could not be removed without damaging the girl into uselessness.

"I am unsure, Lord Vader."

He let the uneasy silence hang in the air as he considered those words. He knew enough about the girl to  _know_  she was never unsure about her direction or mission. Even if she was not aware of the intent of her mission was to ascertain her loyalty and the programming done to her.

"Explain."

"It's difficult to put into words, My Lord. While I will not disagree that Lamperouge's methods, unorthodox as they are, have been effective, I have doubts that what he has done is  _for_  the benefit of the Empire."

_And you would be right_ , Vader thought to himself. Still, he was interested if there were cracks in the programming.

"What's worse is that I feel that the men and women under his command do not feel any loyalty toward the Empire. Whether he has deliberately done it I am left to ascertain, but Lamperouge has created at atmosphere in which his command worships him. Such a situation exists that if Lamperouge chose to go rogue, it's highly likely that most if not all of his fleet will follow him. And while he has shown a disinterest in the politics of the Empire, he holds a philosophical disdain for several of the keystone doctrines that make it up."

"Where are you going with this. Agent?"

"My Lord, while my professional read of Lamperouge suggests that he is loyal to the Empire despite his disagreements with policy, I cannot shake the feeling that I  _know_  he is far from it. That he is consciously or unconsciously laying plans for the eventual betrayal of the Empire."

It seemed there were cracks in the programming indeed, Vader mused to himself, a bit of dark amusement at his master's seeming failure. Lamperouge had always been a cunning individual and presented himself in a way that wouldn't create suspicion of his loyalty. On the surface, he was an loyal Imperial with philosophical and doctrinal disagreements whose body of work spoke for itself.

However…

"You are right to be suspicious of the Grand Admiral's loyalty. Eight years ago, the Grand Admiral was an enemy to the Empire."

"My Lord?"

"During a survey of the Unknown Regions, one of our ships encountered the Grand Admiral's homeworld. The Grand Admiral was able to capture the ship and only because of the ISB agent stationed upon the ship were we able to become aware of it. A retrieval flotilla was sent to recapture the survey ship, only to be destroyed or captured by Lamperouge. It required the deployment of a squadron of Star Destroyers three days to pacify his backwater homeworld, their primitive defenses, and capture the Grand Admiral at the cost of four more Star Destroyers."

He let that hang in the air for a moment, watching for any reaction from the younger woman. After all, she had been part of those primitive defenses. But outside of a faint feeling of  _something,_  a subtle shift in the Force, there was nothing.

"The Grand Admiral's successes drew the eye of the Emperor and he was given an ultimatum: Serve the Empire and his homeworld would be spared."

There it was again, another shift, if he wasn't looking for it this time, it would have likely escaped his notice completely.

_It seems the Emperor's programming was not as perfect as he believed._

"Thank you, My Lord, for clarifying my misgivings. Is there anything else you require of me."

"No. You may leave."

With a deep bow, she backed away, then spun around, leaving through the doors a few moments later, leaving Vader alone, the mechanical sound of his breathing the only sound.

No, the Agent's programming was far from perfect he decided. Something that would need to be observed for now as to discern how to use it best.

It could be yet one more weapon he could use against his Master once the time was right. Only time would tell, he mused.


	8. Interlude:  Earth I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a bit of a quick turnaround here. Some of you have been wandering about what was going on with Earth. Well here you go.
> 
> Also, sidenote, but I made a corrective edit to Chapter 2, in which Lelouch talked about killing forty three thousand. It's in actuality forty-three million. My original draft had a different event that caused peace, but then I realized how unrealistic it was, and how it deviated from Lelouch as a person. So, I decided to go with a darker iteration of a Zero Requiem, but without the canon ending.

There once was a time in which she naively believed in the goodness of people. That the only thing that was wrong with the world was the fact that people refused to come to the table and talk, instead taking the path of violence to solve their problems.

However, like water upon the beach, that belief had slowly been eroded by reality, as her eyes were opened in the worst way.

She had been at Narita when Cornelia had been killed. Listened in horror as Lelouch lifted the veil from her eyes detailing the monstrous actions that had been visited upon him and his. She had listened as her sister had asked for death.

That day, on that battlefield, her naivete had died in the blood, ash and sorrow, and while she still retained both a kind heart and open mind to this day, it was grounded in the knowledge that not everyone was unequivocally good.

Maybe that was why Lelouch had ensured that she became Empress. He had never confided in her why he had done it, only that she had been the only choice in the matter. After almost two centuries of blood and hatred, it would take the exact opposite to soothe the wounds that resulted from The Reckoning.

Forty three million people over several mid-sized cities consumed in the fires of FLEIJA. It had been Zero's magnum opus that far overshadowed everything he had done before. Where he had taken off the mask of being a man interested in justice, and revealed himself to be nothing more than a monstrous terrorist created by the world.

In one day, the entire world had changed, as the horrors at creating such a monster had caused the world to  _pause_. What had been a world in constant conflict, with a true world war on the horizon, had stood down in the face of a much larger threat, one borne of that same conflict. A threat that had intimated that he had more FLEIJAs ready to detonate on a whim and a  _much larger_  targets.

What had previously been leaders and peoples ready to go at each other's throats, suddenly found themselves united in a common cause.

It was also the greatest lie ever perpetrated.

Oh, she had understood the rationale behind it. The world had refused to change, humanity proving itself to be incapable of uniting through conventional means. So Lelouch had decided that if humanity was unable to do so, he would force it through sheer force of will alone and focusing all of the world's hatred upon himself.

It was only because of Kallen that he had not gone through and killed himself, instead using her persona to focus all of the world's hatred upon.

And despite everything he had done, she was grateful that he had survived through it all. Maybe it was selfish of her, but Lelouch had not asked for what had been done to him, things that even she balked at trying to imagine. She was only grateful that Lelouch had seemed to find some sort of happiness in a life that was too full of suffering.

Unfortunately, that happiness had been short-lived, as not six months after The Reckoning, an alien ship had appeared over the planet. As Empress of Britannia, and First Chairwoman of the United Federation of Nations, it had fallen to her to communicate with these aliens. It had only been a bad feeling that she had recalled her brother.

It had been a decision she still wondered to this day if it had been the right one, not for the Earth, but her brother.

Then again, it would have likely ended in the same way, just the circumstances would have been different and much worse. The commander of the alien vessel, revealed to be human, had first attempted to ingratiate himself with them, and it had only been Lelouch's paranoia that had revealed the intent behind such actions.

There was no interest in peaceful integration into the Empire, the commander had sealed orders from the Emperor of the Galactic Empire about if he encountered the Earth, which was to ensure its pacification. The reason why wasn't known until much later, but the orders had cemented that they had only one choice: to fight.

With no other choice, she had unleashed Lelouch, knowing that it was the furthest thing he had wanted to do, in order for any chance to survive. She had authorized the weaponization of Geass, and given a carte blanche to Lelouch to use his Geass on any enemy of the Earth, knowing full well what it meant.

Lelouch had enslaved the Captain, and then the crew of the ship, taking it over with few casualties, in the hope that no message had been sent out in order to buy time for them to prepare. She, along with the rest of the world, had shifted its entire economy from domestic production to full war footing, factories once again producing weapons and munitions in a desperate race, taking everything they could from the alien ship and integrating it into their military hardware all the while training and preparing for the worst.

It had never been enough. Even with Lelouch being the Supreme Commander, reactivating the Damocles Project and mass-producing FLEIJA warheads, it had only been enough to stop the initial wave.

She still remembered the grim expression on her brother's face as he reported the arrival of an entire reinforced squadron of the Empire's most powerful ships into the system. The clinical and detached method in which Lelouch announced his attempt to engage them with everything he had, knowing that the likelihood that any of them would survive was almost non-existent. All in the hope of buying yet more time, and maybe getting a few evacuation ships out before his forces finally succumbed to the onslaught.

When he had signed off, she had believed she would never see him again. That by the time it was over, they would all be dead, and Earth would be left a burnt-out, lifeless husk.

Oh, how wrong she had been.

She stared out the window, watching as an Lambda shuttle took off in the distance, taking its cargo back to his flagship in space.

They had avoided annihilation, the Emperor wanting the planet for his own aims, but that didn't take away the fact that Earth was occupied by the enemy. While it was not necessarily a hostile occupation as long as there was no resistance, it was an occupation nonetheless.

An occupation dependent upon Lelouch's cooperation and success.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

The sudden interruption of her brooding caused her to spin around in surprise at an all-too-familiar voice.

"C.C.!"

She looked different, with her hair cut short and dyed blonde, but there was no mistaking the golden eyes that always seemed to pierce right into your soul.

Of course, there was never any mistaking the woman that was both known for rescuing her older half-brother, but also giving him the power that allowed him to change the world. An immortal witch with powers that challenged what one knew about reality.

An immortal witch on the run.

It had been one of the contingencies Lelouch had put into place before his capture. While he had plotted around the destruction of Earth, he had also planned for what to do if there was an occupation. Using the Thought Elevators as bunkers for not only eventual resistance if they survived, but also to provide a shelter in the event that the Earth was scoured of life, capable of being self-sufficient long enough for humanity to have a chance to survive.

So when the Imperial Fleet entered the solar system, contingencies were enacted. C.C and the best and brightest of the world being evacuated into the Thought Elevators along with enough people and supplies to repopulate humanity. Data was deleted. Records were falsified. Everything was done to wipe them from existence in the event of occupation.

And occupation had come. But the purpose, however, was much different than what any of them expected. By the time Lelouch and Suzaku were shipped off to God-only-knows-where, the reality as to why the Emperor had an interest in the Earth was revealed to her. But it wasn't only that, but it was also the origins of Geass.

Earth was a Force Nexus.

The actual origins of this would likely never be known. So many of the ruins were lost in the thousands of years since the collapse of whatever it was that was here. However, the fact of the matter remained, the Earth was rife with the Force, and contained a mutation of the Force that was not encountered before: A mutation that had been named Geass by its inhabitants.

But it was more than that. And it took years for her to realize it, but it wasn't Geass itself that the Inquisitors that had descended like locusts upon the planet were searching for.

No, they were searching for Code Bearers.

They were searching for C.C.

How the Emperor knew of her existence, she couldn't hazard to guess. But the fact of the matter remained, the Emperor wanted the secrets of immortality. A terrifying prospect that she was unable to pass to Lelouch, or even Suzaku.

"What are you doing here," she demanded, thankful she had already dismissed her aides for the evening.

"I thought you would enjoy the company," the immortal replaced, sauntering over into a chair across from her desk, "considering the meeting with OverseerTromel didn't seem to go well," causing Euphemia to frown in memory of the last few hours.

There were a few choice words that could describe Etritus Tromel, the man in charge of the occupation of Earth, none of them favorable. Every time Euphemia met with the man, she was left with such a disgusting oily feeling that not even a single soak in a bath seemed to wash it away. The man wasn't cruel, but you were always left feeling uneasy around him, and the man was quick to punish if he felt there was disobedience.

The latest meeting with the Overseer had been over the latest 'successes" Lelouch had and how to present them to the populace. It disgusted her how the Empire sought to rub their faces in their defeat, but also show how they were being used to conquer and enslave others.

But it was more than that, as she knew what sort of hell this was for Lelouch. He had wanted nothing more to do with the world after what he had done in order to create a semblance of peace. Instead, he was now a pawn of a man who made Charles zi Britannia seem like a saint event on his worst day.

"I'm worried about him," she finally admitted, watching the inscrutable expression of the immortal flicker just slightly, "even Lelouch has his breaking point, C.C."

She was met with silence, and for a moment, she wondered if she was going to even receive an answer at all. Just what it was that went on in the mind of the immortal she always had wondered: Was she still even human?

"Of the hundreds of contractors I have had over the hundreds of years," C.C. finally spoke, obviously having deliberated on exactly what she was going to say, "Lelouch has been the one who always seemed to make the impossible possible."

It wasn't much of answer, if she were to be honest. In fact, she wanted to snap back at the woman, but held her tongue as it wasn't productive in the least. However, it wasn't the end.

"A grown man would have broke under the tender mercies of the Eunuchs within a week," her solemn tone broke the silence again, "a thirteen year old boy resisted for almost an entire year, Euphemia. Fueled only by his hatred, he did what a fully grown man was incapable of."

Her golden eyes slid from looking out the window back to her, pinning her down in their intensity.

"Hatred is such a strong emotion, Euphemia. It was Lelouch's hatred that allowed him to bring the world to its knees and change it. But that is nothing more than a pale shade to the power Lelouch's love for  _her_."

"But she's dead!"

C.C. smirked in response, leaning forward in the chair, "Are you sure?"

Her mouth opened to angrily retort, before pausing as she peered uneasily at the witch. If it wasn't for the surety, delivered in a catty tone that only C.C. could do, she would have dismissed it. But there was always a sense that C.C. was privy to a much larger game than she, or even Lelouch, had been aware of.

"When a contract is formed, a link is created between patron and contractor, one in which the patron can sense the general well-being and location of the contracted," C.C. explained in that damnable tone.

"And Kallen?"

"Alive. And very near to Lelouch, at least, that is the feeling I get."

If that was true, that Lelouch and Kallen were once again reunited, then that meant. Her eyes widened, even as C.C. rose to her feet.

"Four weeks, Your Majesty."

She couldn't help but blink at the sudden change in subject, her mind grappling with the ramifications of Lelouch and Kallen, and what it meant for them. For a moment, it didn't register what that meant, before it clicked.

"You mean?"

There was a nod from the immortal, "We'll be ready."

With her part said, C.C. rose to her feet, before fading away as if she were never there in the first place, leaving Euphemia with her frenetic and nervous thoughts at the declaration she had been left with.

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

Molten gold opened once again to the world, adjusting to the light as their owner slowly roused herself from the deep meditative trance she had been in. For a few minutes, she merely sat there in quarter lotus position, organizing her thoughts and reviewing the experience of what had just transpired..

Four weeks. It would all either begin or end in four weeks.


	9. Flight of Two Swords

**Chapter 9**

**Flight of Two Swords**

The reversion back to realspace in a starfighter had always been a queer feeling. A not-quite cancellation of the inertia of a faster-than-light transition in space that made you feel it, reminding you of just how small you were in the universe and how you were harnessing powers you were never truly meant to.

At least, that was always the feeling Suzaku Kururugi had as his TIE Defender exited hyperspace. Quickly dismissing the sensation, he double-checked his scopes, ensuring that his starfighter's status was green, before opening his comms.

"Form up, the  _Mobius_  should be here momentarily."

A pair of clicks were his only response as both of his wingmen gave their acknowledgement.

Where they were was simply recognized as XRT3J Alpha on stellar cartography maps, a desolate system with a white dwarf for a star. If the system wasn't so isolated, the massive asteroid field that dominated the system would have been prime real estate for exploitation of minerals.

What it was, however, was a likely place for pirates or other undesirables to hide, which was why it had been identified for recon. But it was the likely threat that existed in the system that resulted in his deployment as further support for the reconnaissance elements that served as Lelouch's eyes and ears.

But it was more than that, as his eyes drifted to his sensors, gaze focused upon the third TIE Defender in their flight, a last minute addition to this mission.

" _I'm sorry, I think I misheard you, Lelouch," Suzaku drily commented, "you want me to_ _ **what**_ _?!"_

_The grimace from his best friend told him that he hadn't been mistaken in his hearing, much to his chagrin. Instead, Lelouch seemed to gather himself up, ready for the inevitable fight that he seemed to realize his friend was about to make._

" _I want you to take Kallen on your next sortie."_

" _Are you kriffing insane?!"_

_Instead of retorting, his friend stared him down, his gaze imperious, as if he were a peasant daring to question his liege. It was a look he hadn't seen from Lelouch in years, so while it was heartening to see the fire coming back to his friend, it did not take away from what he was being asked to do._

_The history between himself and Kallen was...complicated to say the least. Scratch that, it was only an act of Kami that they hadn't killed one another in the two years. It had been a brutal, sordid affair driven by a mutual hatred that had only deepened as time went on, becoming such an obsession between the two that the final battle hadn't stopped when their knightmares had been disabled, but had continued into a duel with swords, then vicious hand-to-hand combat._

_His left hand, his artificial hand, curled up into a fist at the memory. He rarely thought of the hand he lost in that fight, Rakshata's replacement perfect in almost every way, but when he did, it was because of her. While he bore her no ill will after that, as she had almost bled out in that fight, it was still difficult to move on from two years of hatred and bloodlust._

" _You know perfectly well the animosity that exists between us, Lelouch. You are gambling with my life here. You know damn well what could happen if your little brain storm goes to shit, especially if something happens out there and she's not all right in the head."_

_The silence was deafening from his friend. If it were anyone else, he would have by now told them to go fuck themselves at such a hare-brained idea. But because of who it was, but also the confidence he had in his own skills, he sighed, shaking his head._

" _Fine. I'll do it, Lelouch, but if she becomes a problem, I will put her down. It's what she would have wanted."_

_For a moment, he wondered if Lelouch would balk at such a statement, despite the fact that they both knew that Kallen would not want to be enslaved like this if it could be helped. But finally, he nodded, before taking his leave._

So far, though, despite the bristling reception he had received from the redhead when she joined him for the briefing, there had been nothing to indicate any sort of success in Lelouch's gamble.

Honestly, though, he wasn't sure if he wanted there to be success at this juncture.

That wasn't to say that he didn't wish for Kallen back. If it hadn't been for her, he shuddered to think what would have happened to the world under Lelouch's clinical ruthlessness. She had tempered his humanity, dragging him back from an abyss that would have been so much worse if it had continued.

But the problem was, Lelouch, despite how he may portray himself, was an emotionally intense person. He did a decent job in restraining it, but when the mask failed, the resultant explosion was the sort of thing that brought empires to their knees, as the Britannian Empire had found out firsthand.

And the mask was cracking.

However, he wasn't sure if Kallen's return at this time would be for the best. She had always been strident in her hatred of Britannia and everything it represented, and while she had made Lelouch promise to protect their home, could she accept that he had done so much more worse in the service of the Empire?

He was not so sure.

Nor was he certain that Lelouch had even fully considered the consequences in his quixotic quest to honor her last wish and now reclaim her. But if he had…

Shaking those dark thoughts out of his head, he refocused himself on the here and now. He would try and salvage from the fallout if and when it happened. It was pointless to dwell upon the maybes.

Which was of no use to him right now, as his console lit up with the alert of a new arrival as it exited hyperspace.

If there was any ship in the Imperial Fleet that Suzaku appreciated it was the  _Raider-_ class Corvette. At a hundred and fifty meters in length, it was a mean little ship with teeth that could give larger ships pause, armed with its complement of lasers, ion cannons, missile launchers, and starfighters.

But what the the  _Raider_  truly provided was force projection that much larger ships simply could not. Over the years, Lelouch had added  _dozens_  of the ships to his fleet, customizing them for roles far beyond their designed roles as picket ships.

The  _Mobius_ was one of those unique configurations, and probably the most dangerous of them in Lelouch's order of battle. Not in terms of martial prowess, becauset not all battles were won based upon firepower and tactics alone.

What made the  _Mobius_  dangerous was the many antennae that bristled along its hull, making it appear to be some sort of Frankensteinian hedgehog in regards to appearance. These antennae made the  _Mobius_  uniquely suited in its role of intelligence collection management through both signal and electronic intelligence gathering.

If Lelouch was a bloodhound, then the  _Foxhound_  variant of the  _Raider_  were his nose. Hypering into a target region, they would go into silent running with their uniquely baffled engines to reduce emissions and  _listen_.

It was something that Lelouch had noted almost as soon as he was conscripted into the Empire, but the galaxy at large was notoriously bad at EMCON, or emissions control. Time and again, lousy emissions control allowed him to find his quarry more effectively than an entire fleet's worth of probe droids.

What the  _Foxhound_  specialized in was sniffing down these emissions, filter, decipher, and provide the veritable gold mine of information his prey would provide for their eventual destruction because they didn't know  _anyone was listening_.

There was a certain morbid humor that Lelouch derived from this, Suzaku knew. For years, Lelouch had built up an infrastructure of information collection and analysis that had driven Britannia spare at how seemingly omniscient Zero and the Black Knights were, not realizing that it was their poor emissions security and their penchant to communicate in the open that was the cause of their defeat time and again. And now he was here in the larger galaxy, and information security and emissions control was  _even worse_  than it had been during his war with Britannia, providing him with unfettered battlespace control.

Foreknowledge is the difference between kings and and victims, Lelouch had once told him when he asked why he spent so much time and energy on something as lowly as information gathering. Of course, the smug bastard would steal from Sun Tzu and claim it as his own, but it was quintessentially Lelouch that he would do so.

But the sentiment was there, Lelouch ascribed his success to the fact that time and again, he knew his enemy's composition and intent before they were ever aware he was about to strike. It was this dominance that had led to some to believe he was omniscient.

The  _Mobius_  and her sisters were the key to that faux-omniscience. It was uniquely equipped with the best sensors and surveillance technology the Empire could offer, providing the critical information that he needed in order to implement his battle strategies. But it was also the means for him to hunt the prey that would try to hide from his gaze.

Normally, the  _Mobius_  and her brethren would be deployed by themselves. But because of the fact that they were in an active combat region, they were provided with an escort. Normally, this would be a quartet of Assault Gunboats equipped for the suppression of enemy starfighters, with another squadron of Assault Gunboats on call equipped for anti-shipping. However, Lelouch had given this mission to Suzaku because it would provide him more flight time not only with his TIE Defender, but also to acclimate Maarek Steele in the Defender's operations. Kyrene/Kallen had only been added in at the last moment.

"Lancelot Lead, this is  _Mobius_ Actual, we're beginning our system-wide scan, please standby."

There was no need to acknowledge, both because it was redundant, but also it would only increase the chance of their emissions being detected despite everything being done in tightbeam, which minimized the emission to its absolute lowest while able to transmit voice and data.

Besides, they had all been briefed on the mission profile, so what remained was to go through their escort waypoints while the  _Mobius_  did her job.

With one last glance at the  _Mobius_ , he did an end over and began going through the preplotted waypoints for their escort mission.

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

There were few things that brought any sort of pleasure in the life of Kyrene Roux, and those that she deigned to acknowledge could be counted with two fingers. The first being the sense of accomplishment and pleasure in fulfilling a mission for the Emperor, there was nothing more fulfilling to have his approval for her successes.

The second, however, was the act of piloting that elicited something else entirely within her. When she piloted she felt like she was reconnecting with something she lost. That she  _belonged_  behind the controls, as if she were more incomplete without it than she was. Piloting was a balm upon her soul. And over the years, between training and missions, she had logged as many hours as she could either in the simulators or the actual cockpit.

So while the TIE Defender was a much different beast to her Interceptor, or even her private ship gifted to her by the Emperor, the  _Black Lotus_  it did not take away what should have been the feeling of liberation of being back in the cockpit.

Instead, it felt like a steel prison and the blame could be placed solely at the current source of her vexation: Grand Admiral Lelouch Lamperouge.

Somehow he had not only known of her love of piloting, but that she would be unable to resist the offer to pilot the third TIE Defender in his possession. How he knew any of this escaped her, only added to her agitation at the man.

_You know how he knows_ , came a whisper that sounded hauntingly like herself, causing the synthetic material that clad her hands to creak in protest as they tightened on the controls of the Defender.

And  _then_  there was the voice. Ever since she had laid eyes upon him, a voice that sounded like her own had plagued her, whispering things about knowing, about how everything was a lie, and how she must protect the Grand Admiral. If she didn't know the Grand Admiral's unique ability and was immune to it, she would have believed that he had done something to her.

It was quite possible that he  _had_  done something to her, but until she could ascertain what it was, there was no point in reporting it. If there was one thing that the displeased the Emperor, it was weakness, and she would  _not_  show weakness in front of the man who had given her life from the death she had been destined to have.

_And yet you're a slave and refuse to it._

"Shut up," she snarled through clenched teeth, wanting nothing more to silence that voice.

_Then you better turn that shiny lightsaber on yourself,_  came the smug response,  _your continued apathy to the truth will lead not only to your death, but the deaths of everyone you hold dear. But you already know that…_

"I. Said. SHUT.  **UP!** ," she roared, her careful grasp of emotions snapping, exploding into a consuming inferno that felt  _oh so good_ , yet entirely wrong at the same time. It was in that furnace that she felt something give ever-so-slightly and as The Voice faded away the satisfaction evident in her last parting shot.

_As you wish…_

And then it was gone, leaving her breathing raggedly, exhaustion nibbling at the edges as if she had just run a marathon, sweat dripping into her eyes stinging them and only adding further insult to her situation. Slumping forward in the command couch, she fought to regain her breathing, the vacuum-sealed pilot suit necessary for TIE pilots providing its own echo chamber, further adding to the mockery that had become her mind.

It was getting worse, she thought angrily as she slowly brought herself back under control, even as she unconsciously maintained her Defender in formation with Kururugi's. Whatever it was that Lamperouge had done to her was only getting worse. This traitorous voice that was gnawing at her self-control and attempting to lead her astray.

What was it? She didn't want to admit it, but it didn't feel artificial, like some sort of suggestion implanted into her subconscious. It felt strangely natural, as if it was some part of her that was surfacing, but that didn't make sense, as the only that had changed was Lamperouge's presence.

Was the Emperor wrong in the Lamperouge? Was there something more than this Geass that Lamperouge had? The man was certainly wily enough to maybe having found something more that may actually affect someone like her. But why her? Was the man's obsession with his dead fiance that deep-seated that he would go to such extreme lengths?

No, that wasn't Lelouch…

She blinked at the usage of his name. It was always Lamperouge, never his first name. Why would she refer to him with such familiarity. There was no reason to do so, the man was a nobody to her. Just another cog in the Imperial war machine in the service of their Emperor.

Just what was it that the Emperor had withheld from her?

With the audible click of her tongue, she quickly buried the treasonous thought and locked it away, refusing to acknowledge or analyze it. She was the Emperor's Hand, not some easily swayed Outer Rim hick. And it would be a cold day on Malachor before she allowed Lamperouge's manipulations to seduce her away from her debt to the Emperor.

Once she got back to the  _Ineluctable_ , she would deal with these thoughts properly and still them forever. And once she did that, she would do what she  _should_  have done in the first…

Her thoughts were suddenly cut off as she  _felt_  it.

"Mobius Actual, Lancelot Lead _,_ cease all operations and prepare to jump to Staging Point Resh" Kururugi's voice sounded in her ears, "we're about to have company."

Had he sensed it as well, she wondered to herself even as she switched the Defender to full military power settings, the dull whine of the I-s4d solar ionization reactor becoming a roar that seemed to vibrate her entire being as weapons and shields rapidly topped off.

The thought the Kururugi may be a Force-sensitive was laughable, as if he were, then he would have either been inducted into the Secret Order or quietly eliminated. Yet the nagging feeling that this was yet another layer to the game being played by Lamperouge would not escape her.

"Lancelot Lead, Mobius Actual, there's nothing on our scopes here. Are you sure?"

As soon as he asked, her sensors blared a warning, as out of the asteroids came a ship followed by several starfighters.

At a distance, the sensors were positively identifying the ship as an Action VI transport, but the readings were all wrong, the power…

Suzaku's curse in his native tongue that she somehow recognized filled the communications even as she realized what the ship was.

" _Kuso! Mobius,_  Code Edinburgh. I repeat, Code Edinburgh, that's a Zann Interceptor-IV, spool up your hyperdrive  _now_!"

Tyber Zann was a name she was familiar with, both as her role as the Emperor's Hand, but also in her brief on Grand Admiral Lamperouge. Suffice to say, Tyber Zann and Lamperouge went back several years, when then-Commander had broken up several of the Zann Consortium's operations. If there was anyone that Tyber Zann despised more than his father, then it was the Grand Admiral. Over the years, there had been several engagements between the Grand Admiral and Zann, usually ending up with Zann suffering a tactical defeat, but winning a larger strategic victory through his disruption or inconveniencing Lamperouge's ongoing operations.

"Negative, Lancelot. Negative. We're detecting mass shadows on our exit point. We are unable to enter hyperspace until they disappear."

Obviously something had changed, it appeared.

With the usage of whatever was generating the mass shadow, it meant they were all stuck here, and depending on the size of the mass shadow, they were cut off from reinforcements as well, she thought darkly. From what she knew, the Zann Consortium did not have access to any Interdictor Cruisers, which they would have detected before it was able to bring up its gravity well projectors. That meant that it was likely a pulsemass mine, which was a Hapes' Consortium weapon as far as she knew. How Tyber got his hands on a technology that was as zealously guarded as it was by the Hapan's was something Imperial Intelligence would have to look into.

But that was for after surviving this ambush. Already the fighters were accelerating ahead of the frigate, a mixture of T-Wings, Razer fighters, and R-41 Starchasers. On their own no match for a Defender, but in a group like this...

"Three, with me," Kururugi's voice cut her thoughts like a vibroblade, focused and sharp, his Defender spinning and accelerating away and towards the oncoming fighters, she immediately took off in pursuit of him, "Two, protect the  _Mobius_  and deal with any that get by us."

"Roger."

"Three, you familiar with the Rashon Weave?"

She grimaced. The Rashon Weave was a maneuver developed by Civé Rashon as a means for TIE pilots to break missile acquisition sensors in a frontal engagement with warhead equipped enemy starfighters. How this was achieved required precise and tight weaving between two TIEs in such a manner that the sensors defaulted every time the sensor contact 'merged' and then broke apart.

The only downside to it was that it was an extremely advanced maneuver where the slightest error would kill the pilots as surely as the missiles that they were trying to spoof as the close proximity of the maneuver left no room for it, lest they collide.

"Yes."

"Good. On my mark, we're going to do a Rashon Weave with a Murne Twist. We need to break their formation or this is going to be a damned short engagement."

As the range gated down, she knew there was no choice in the matter, as another squadron of fighters was now coming out of the asteroids, leaving the odds significantly in their disfavor.

"Roger."

As the warning system began detecting the telltale sign of an active sweep of missile acquisition systems, Kururugi snapped a terse, "Mark."

And she began spinning, weaving in and out between herself and Kururugi, with each replacing the other at the front. With only a scant few meters between the two, they continued this intricate corkscrew-like maneuver even as the range closed. If they weren't so intensely focused on the maneuver itself, Kyrene would have faltered at the sensation of her brush of the Force against Kururugi being willingly accepted, a connection forming between the two of them as their maneuver ceased being two individuals and became one unit.

And for a moment of brilliant clarity, the mix of R-41 Starchasers, T-Wings, and Razer Fighters became TIES, and Kururugi's TIE became some sort of bipedal mechanized unit with glowing green wings jutting out its back, innumerable Star Destroyers in the distance.

"Now," Kururugi's voice snapped the illusion as he began firing, verdant green, electric blue flashing out of their ports towards their attackers, even as the return fire came towards them, blood red and electric blue, "Break."

Only they were not there anymore, both breaking into seperate directions, their first victims too slow to react, the combined fusillade claiming two, even as she continued the spiralling corkscrew outward, her thumbs not letting up on the triggers.

The damage was done, the R-41 and T-Wing's lack of maneuverability hampered their ability to acquire their prey in the maneuver, with only the Razers only barely keeping up for a moment before the closing distance negated it. Then they were past, already banking around, with the Zann fighters breaking formation and taking off for them, an additional quartet of their brethren flaming wrecks.

The entire maneuver only took seconds to complete, and as Kyrene banked around, she noted that she only seemed to have taken two or three hits, the shields only losing a quarter of their overall strength. She then found herself with a T-Wing desperately trying to turn up and into her, only to unfortunately come into her gunsights. A fire-linked sextet of beams finished his manueve for eternity, his fighter becoming a molten coffin as it flew past her.

The shrill warning caused her to bank hard right, inertia digging her into the command couch. A fusillade of beams intersecting where she had just been, but that hadn't been the warning, as she toggled a switch, deploying a mixture of chaff and flares out of the back of the Defender to spoof the missile that had launched at her. The missile darted past her cockpit harmlessly, sparking as it had run into a cloud of the chaff she had deployed, crippling the electronics on the weapon. .

However, she didn't have a moment of relief, instead pulling hard on the control yoke and bringing a Razer into her HUD. With a flick of her thumb, she toggled off the fire-linked cannons, instead choosing to stutter fire them, green and blue impacting a faint blue sphere before a single green beam tore through the right wing, shearing it off and a single blue beam finished the rest, leaving it flying ballistic as its systems died. But she didn't even have the time to know that had happened, as she completed her own maneuver, yo-yoing back and forth and then going into a dive.

"Three, break right."

She didn't even question the command, immediately breaking right, just in time to see the broken and burning remains of a Starchaser pass by her, followed by Kururugi's Defender. Guided by the Force, she immediately turned in, just in time to depot a missile into a passing Razer, the fighter exploded pieces impacting its wingman, draining its shields. An afterthought deposited a laser into its cockpit, before she banked up and away.

"Thanks, Three."

She didn't offer a response, instead focusing on the T-Wing that had slipped in behind her, lasers impacting heavily against the shields, warnings on her HUD alerting her at the depletion. With a lurch, she ramped back the throttle, bleeding off energy even as she redlined the maneuvering jets, rotating her cockpit upwards just in time for the T-Wing to meander its way into her sights. It didn't live much longer after that, lasers quicky overwhelming the fighter's porous shields and slagging it.

Without a moment's hesitation, she slammed the throttle back forward, dumping chaff and flares even as the sudden acceleration caused her vision to grey. She reduced her laser recharge and bumped up her shield recharge, shunting power from her lasers to her shields in order to replenish some of what she lost, the blinking red that had been her rear shields becoming a healthy green.

There was a sense of perfection about all of this, she thought as another Razer was annihilated with a surgical application of emerald-green beams of coherent energy supplied by herself. The rush of battle, the joy of flying, the satisfaction of defeating her enemies, the sense of fulfillment at the approval she received for her success…

It was if she were once again Lelouch's sword.

Her body froze as everything in her mind screeched to a halt. All that remained of her was a sort of quasi-recognition of  _rightness_  in that thought, fought desperately by the more conscious part of her at how  _wrong_  it was. Yet, the desperate the struggle, despite everything that was Kyrene Roux, it  _quailed_  in the light of that singular thought.

"JINK HARD, THREE!"

Unconscious ingrained reflex dashed all of that, as she yanked hard on the control yoke, just as a turbolaser flashed through where she was. Yet her maneuver didn't end, as with an even tighter turn, she righted herself on an attack path towards the offender, only one thing now in her mind.

She felt  _violated_ , all of these thoughts, these errant feelings, gnawing away like a piranha beetle at her sanity. Confusing her.  _Weakening_  her. Robbing her of the very essence of who she was. What she was.

"Why," she screamed, even as the alarms went off in her cockpit, warning her that her shields were critically low, her weapons joined in her rage at  _everything_. The beams of green and blue splashing against the  _Interceptor IV_ 's shields, the previously invisible baring glowing brighter and brighter, its point defense weapons returning fighter angril towards her, even as she bobbed and weaved. The barrier then disappeared and white-hot plasma and ionized particles impacted naked duralloy and ferroceramic, vaporizing and exposing the inside to vacuum in the case of the former; ionizing and overloading electronics in a skittering of electric blue energy in the latter.

It was with an after-thought, she ripple fired her concussion missiles, depositing them into the compromised hull of the  _Interceptor IV_ , and wreathing it in explosions before dove under and away, the ship snapping in half as the structure could no longer maintain its integrity and the concussion missiles merely finished what had already been done.

"Why," came the second, soul-wrenching whisper that held so much more than what could simply be expressed. Before grimacing, closing her left eye as it began to burn...

* * *

**ENR**

* * *

Suzaku had only given half a thought to death of the  _Interceptor_ , even as he worked to finish off the rest of the Zann starfighters. He had lost count at how many he had killed, knowing that his gun cameras would provide it at the end of all of this.

No, his focus was split by his job, and the sensation that he still felt at the edge of his perception, from his link with Kallen..

Oh, there was no doubt in his mind now, despite his misgivings and hopes, that Kyrene Roux was Kallen Kozuki. It was a gift that he had honed over the years during his years both as a Knightmare pilot, and then later as a TIE pilot. He had never had a word to describe what it was, this weird sense of precognition and influence upon both his allies and friends until he had become a servant of the Empire. But once it did, it explained so much about him.

Somehow, someway, he was Force-sensitive, gifted with the unique ability to tap an energy force that seemed to permeate in every living thing. It was doubtful he would ever be able to do anything like persuading the weak-minded, or toss things without touching them, or shoot lightning from his hands, but he was perfectly fine with that. He was quite happy with what he had, because it made him one of the best at what he did.

Of course, Palpatine knew about it, but he had humored Lelouch in allowing him to continue to exist, untainted by the Secret Order, both probably because he just didn't  _have_ what was needed, but also because it would be a waste to make him something that he was not.

Yet that link, despite whatever Kallen was doing, could sense...conflict? Rage? It was so much it was nearly indecipherable. Yet whatever it was, he could feel just a bit of  _her._  He wasn't sure whether he should be relieved or worried.

He was not a schemer, he didn't have the subtlety or long-term planning necessary to achieve it. But he was capable enough to recognize the dangerous game his friend seemed only to escalate further. Kallen, Kyrene, whoever she was at this moment, was under the yoke of the Emperor, and he had seen enough to know that the man would not take Lelouch's manipulations of his Hand lightly, there was less to be said about whatever had been done to replace Kallen's personality. All it would take was one small misstep and they were both dead men, with Earth paying whatever price. That was, if it hadn't already.

But, while he would never publicly admit it, partially out of a survival instinct that he had cultivated once he had stopped being a naive and short-sighted idiot with a martyr complex (something he would forever be grateful to Cecile for), but he, like Lelouch, chafed under the yoke of their taskmaster. Sure, he did an excellent job in hiding it, partially through never acknowledging it unless he was alone with Lelouch, but also through simply living life. After all, if one did not take the time to enjoy life, then they would not have something to fight for regardless.

That was not to say that he was apathetic to the situation. There had been no doubt in his mind that it was only a matter of time before Lelouch would rebel against the Emperor, but he had given it a few more years before that happened. Lelouch may not necessarily be conscious of it, but while he had been viewed as an undesirable by many of the upper echelons of Imperial High Command, he was extremely popular with the rank and file as his various reform had become a slow trickle simply through the fact that they were successful. Of course, those changes were only made half-hearted and would always be a pale shade to what would be integrated into the rest of the Empire, but they were changes nonetheless.

If given a few more years, there may have just been that sort of uprising necessary to break the back of the Empire, as Lelouch's network grew with both rank and file, but also some well-placed and capable commanders as well flocking to his banners.

Alas, just like everything else dealing with Kallen, Lelouch's reckless side was rearing its ugly head again. It had almost been the death of both of them several times in the last days of the Black Rebellion, as Lelouch wouldn't (or coudn't, as he personally believed) separate himself from the passion and feelings of their relationship. His obsessive fixation, which was what it was, upon Kalen, had both been an asset and liability in those last days, to where it had taken Kallen putting her foot down and reining it in.

But there was no Kallen here to do that, and he honestly didn't have the ability to make Lelouch  _listen_ , despite their relationship. Such was the power that Kallen had over Lelouch. That was likely why he had even agreed to any of this, because he  _did_  want Kallen back, if at least to rein in his friend's impulsive nature when it came to things such as emotions.

Which, appeared to be working, though, if there was one thing he had learned with Lelouch over the years, it was that nothing should ever be taken for granted. And with Lord Vader on their ship...well…

As the R-41 exploded in front of him, he let out a deep sigh, his sensors showing no more hostiles in range, and in the distance, Kallen's Defender was slowly meandering its way back to to them.

"Status check," he called out, out of his duty as the commander of this flight more than anything else.

"Two here. Three kills. No damage. Down to three missiles.  _Mobius_  reporting that its scopes are clear."

_Not bad_ , he thought to himself. It seemed the addition of Maarek Stele into his command was going to be one of those wise investment. It remained to be seen how much of an investment it would be, considering that he had only been given whatever remnants got to the  _Mobius_ , but it was a start at least.

It was the silence at the other and that worried him, as Kallen/Kyrene still hadn't responded yet. This was honestly a more difficult situation, as while he nominally outranked her, as the Emperor's Hand, it was technically the other way.

"Three?"

"No damage," came the succinct reply, causing him to frown both at the emotion he could feel, and the tone in her voice. However, rather than press the issue, and quite possibly overstepping his bounds, he acknowledged it and dropped the subject.

" _Mobius_  Actual, Lancelot Lead, status report?"

"We took a few turbolaser hits, but nothing more. We're still unable to enter hyperspace thanks to the mines."

"Understood. I want you to resume operations. Those mines should be running out of power soon enough. I want to know what may be hidden out here that would cause Zann to want to jump us."

_It's probably nothing, but I'd rather be thorough than have it bite us in the ass_ , he thought to himself. He had learned always to expect the unexpected. It was likely an ambush planned by Zann that just had his forces sit out here in wait, but it could also be something more detailed. Better to be safe than sorry.

"Roger that, Lancelot Lead. Our compliments to your pilots. You put on a pretty good show."

"No problem. Just doing our jobs, Mobius Actual. Lancelot out."

With that, he cut the line, bringing back his focus to Kallen's TIE Defender, both thankful for her continued safety, but unable to shake a feeling settling into his gut that what happened here was only going to make things much, much, more complicated before it was all over.

He wasn't comfortable with that feeling, either.

_Why does everything involving those two have to be so damned complicated_ , he moaned internally, before programming in a series of waypoints meant to continue their mission.


End file.
